Brutally In Love
by hutcherwife
Summary: A poor girl from District 12... and a brutal boy from District 2. Both are thrusted into the Games. Then recognition sparks between them, and the boy's plans are ruined. Now both of them have to fight to the death to get back home. Will the odds be in their favor?
1. That Blonde Boy

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. The amazing Suzanne Collins does.**

The four people from 12 watched the recap of the reapings.

Haymitch Abernathy, the lone victor from the second Quarter Quell.

Effie Trinket, District 12's very own escort.

Peeta Mellark, District 12's male tribute.

And me, Katniss Everdeen, the first volunteer of District 12, also the female tribute.

They watched the two volunteers from District 1 and 2. From 1, a blonde, arrogant girl and a tall, skinny brunette boy. The boy, no doubt, has some skills. But the girl could probably hardly handle a weapon. From 2, a small brunette and a tall muscular boy. Even if the girl seems small, she has that sadistic smile plastered on her face. She must know what she's doing.

The boy though, looked unusually familiar. Had she seen him before? In a District Parade, perhaps? Every district has this parade celebration every year. Sometimes, the wealthier districts holds balls. But in the poorer districts like 12, people just dance in the square with music surrounding them. But how could she ever meet a guy like him in the parade?

I must have a weird expression on my face, cause Peeta looks at me and asks if I'm okay. "Yeah," I say, "just sizing up competition." He nods before turning his attention back to the screen. Haymitch, though, is staring at me. Like he knows what I'm thinking. I stare back, silently daring him to look away. It doesn't take long before he does. _Later, _I tell myself, _later I will find out who the handsome boy from District 2 is. _


	2. Spitfire

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does. **

Tonight was a fairytale.

Riding chariots, people screaming, but most of all, fire.

Fire, burning us up.

Me and Peeta, that is. We captured the crowd's eyes. Roses were thrown our way and names were shouted. _Sponsors, _Haymitch said. _Sponsors will get you what you need. Whether it's a knife or a sleeping bag, it could save your damn life, _he said, after I stabbed the knife on the mahogany table.

But after all, Haymitch _is _right. He did win the second Quarter Quell. So he must know what he's doing, even if he's hardly sober.

President Snow stands on the balcony and silences the audience. The scumbag certainly knows his ways around here. _Of course he does, _I scold myself, _he's the president for God's sake. _

I shake my head, wanting to clear my thoughts, when a certain blonde and blue-eyed boy catches my eye. He's not glaring, but his gaze isn't particularly soft, either. He's just staring at me. That's when it hits me- He's the boy! The District 2 boy! I cock my eyebrow at him, daring him to look away. And that's exactly what he does, after smirking at me. I roll my eyes and look away as well.

When we get off the chariot and head towards the elevators, Haymitch leaves us and goes to the bar, but not before telling us to go to our rooms. Effie takes off, too, looking for Cinna and Portia. I doubt she'll be back anytime soon, since the crowd is getting thicker and thicker by the minute.

Peeta and I do as Haymitch says, though. We climb into the elevator and, _joy, _guess who decided to join us, too? _Of course _the District 2 tributes had to join with us. They snickered at us upon entering. I fight the urge to roll my eyes and fidget instead. Peeta looks uncomfortable, too. I don't think he likes the girl from 2 who keeps a knife with her everywhere she goes.

The District 11 tributes join us too. The boy is huge like the boy from 2, bigger even. Thresh, I think his name is. The girl is petite, though, and she reminds me so much of Prim, through her movements and name. Rue, like Primrose, is another flower in the meadow. I can't bear to look at her, because she reminds me too much of home.

The elevator moves upwards and stops on the second level. Both tributes move and the girl, I think, shoves Rue backwards.

"Watch it," she snarls.

Before Thresh can snap back at her, I growl at her and say, "Watch your mouth."

Everyone looks at me in surprise except the boy from 2. He just smirks and laughs at his district partner.

"Shut _up, _Cato!"

"Your face is priceless, Clove." He laughs again.

Just before the girl -Clove- snaps back a remark at me, Peeta hits the close button with his fist and the elevator doors close. We travel back upwards. Everyone (but me) sighs in relief. The elevator stops once again, but at the eleventh floor.

Just before the tributes goes off, Thresh looks at me and says, "Thank you." Then he carries Little Rue and they get off. But Rue manages to shoot me a smile before the doors close.

Silence envelops us as we reach our level. But that's okay. Because the only thing I really want to do know is eat. I'm famished. I can tell Peeta is to because once we reach the twelth floor he dashes to his room, changes quickly and heads towards the dining table. I do the same. Then, we indulge ourselves in good food and soon enough, we're both finished. And that's when Haymitch, Effie, Portia and Cinna enter.

"Looks like you two filled up, eh?" Haymitch remarks drunkenly.

The four of them chuckle and sit beside us as well. Effie tells us to get our rest so Peeta and I head to our rooms.

But then I just sit there and think of everything. My father's voice when he sings. My mother's dull eyes when he died. Prim's golden hair. Buttercup's low growl. Lady's pink ribbon. Gale's mimicking of Effie. The baker's cookies. Peeta's cheek, red from the blow of his mother. Me, picking a dandelion after school.

These memories make my eyes water and soon enough, I have tears streaming down my cheeks. But I quickly wipe them away and focus. _You can do this, Katniss, _I think, _you can. You promised Gale and Prim. _Gale. A pang hit my chest when I thought of him. If I don't survive, what would he do? Would he still help Prim?

My eyes begin to water _again _but this time, I don't let them fall. _You have to be strong, Katniss. For Prim. _So I push all these horrid thoughts out of my mind and head towards the elevators.

Surely, Haymitch, Effie and the stylists saw me, but neither one of them stops calls. So I jump in the elevator and press the top button. _Rooftop. _The elevator closes and goes up abruptly. Then it opens again, after a few minutes, then I am on the roof.

It's peaceful up here. The wind's blowing mildly. The roaring of the crowd is still there, but it is faint. That parade is for us. They're cheering for us, right? I hop on one of the benches there and sit. I just watch the people. They're just screaming. And when their voices finally start to falter, I sing.

I sing The Valley Song. Once, when I was five, the teacher asked who knew the Valley Song and my arm shot straight up. She sat me up on a stool and had me sing it in front of the whole class. Peeta was one of the people there. So was Madge. They knew me as The Girl Who Had A Nice Voice. I used to be open, then. I used to let anybody in my life. I was five. But ever since my dad died, I stopped. I didn't let anybody except Madge, Gale and Prim in. I didn't get attached to anyone except them. And I am still like that.

Once the song ends, everything is quiet, except the rustling of the wind. But aside from that, I do not hear a single thing. It's probably late, about midnight. Everyone's asleep. But apparently, I was wrong. Because as I looked down at the crowd that was once there, I heard a voice.

"Nice voice you got there, Spitfire."


	3. Blueberry Pie

**Disclaimer: Sorry, I do not own The Hunger Games. Well that's too bad.**

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**So here's what you missed:**

**Katniss and the other tributes were presented in the Capitol. The boy from District 2 - Cato - was looking at her. In the elevators she stood up for the little girl from 11 because that wretched girl from 2 was harsh to her. Then at night Katniss went up to the roof and was watching the crowd while singing and was caught by Cato who called her Spitfire. And that's what you missed on Glee.**

**^^joke.**

**Anyway, let's go on with the story, shall we?**

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I jumped in surprise as I whirled around. Cato was there, looking at me with a smirk on his face. How long has he been there? How have I not noticed him listening to me? And did he just call me _Spitfire_?

"What are you doing here?" I asked. What the hell.

"Why, can't other tributes go up here, too? Is this your private lounge?" He snarled at me.

He started walking towards me and with each step he took, I took another backwards. Until my back hit the wall, that is. I look for a way so I can escape but I found none.

Cato walked towards me until his bare foot touched mine and his chest was in my face. His breath was hot on my hair and I felt very uncomfortable. I try my best not to fidget, not to show any fear. I look up and see his eyes, that were once blue looked black at this time of the night. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I was terrified of him right now.

"What's the matter Spitfire? Cat got your tongue?"

Again with the Spitfire. What is it with this guy and his nicknames?

I sneered at him, "Can you move? I've got things _better _to do, like stick my head in the toilet."

Unusually, he just smiled at her. It's not even a mean smile. And it was troubling me. What the _heck _is this guy's problem.

Cato leaned in closer to her face. So close that his nose touched hers. "You don't remember me, do you?"

I break away and say, "You're crazy." I start to walk towards the elevators, but he catches up to me and grabs me by the shoulders. He pushes me to the wall, and I wince because of the pain. He hears this and lightens his grip on my shoulders, but just a little bit. Now there's really no room for escape.

"You don't remember me, do you?" he says with a smirk on his face.

Remember him? No. But his face looks vaguely familiar. As hard as I try, I can't quite place his face in my memories. Did I know him before? Did he live in 12? If yes, then he must be a merchant's kid. But I don't know any merchant who looks like him. Which means no, I do not remember you.

He leaned in once more, taunting me. "How's Gale? He never liked me, really. But your sister did. What's her name? Is it... Prim?"

He smirked knowingly at me and this time, let me go. Now I am really confused. How does he know Gale? And even worse, _Prim? _It's possible because of the reaping, but Effie mentioned _Primrose, _not _Prim. _And Gale wasn't called. Who was this guy?

Cato started walking towards the elevator. And after a few seconds, I ran after him.

"Hey!"

He ignored me and kept walking. He went inside and pressed the close button but I stuck my foot as the doors were closing and went inside with him. I lept up on him with surprising force and put my forearm on his neck.

"How do you know them?" I demanded.

His eyes stated shock at first, then anger. Before I could blink, he was immediately on top of me, using one hand to gather my fists and put it on top of my head. _Great, just what I wanted. _

He looks at me smugly again. "Tell me first, do you know me?"

I resist the urge to spit at him and try kneeing him in the groin. With no success. His face remains impassive and once more I am stuck in a sticky situation.

"I don't know. When I first saw you volunteer, you looked familiar. But I couldn't put my finger on it, okay? Now get off me!"

He does no such thing. Instead, he brushes one hand on my cheek. His eyes soften and I see that they are glassy. Woah, is this Cato's soft side? Never knew he had one. He looks so strong and tough all the time he could live _without _a weakness. Brutal, bloody, muscular Cato has a weakness. Wait did I just say _handsome? _No. Cato is _anything _but handsome.

I was just about to ask him how he knows them, when he gets off me. Then he leaves without another glance in my direction. But he says something and I barely catch it.

_"Blueberry pie."_

I stare at him in shock. How did he know about that? It was the Prim's birthday, and we had quite a feast. My father was still alive back then, and he was able to trade with the baker. We had blueberry pie. I was there with my family, Gale, and...

No. It can't be.

Cato's gone. He took the stairs. And I'm left alone in the elevator.

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A/N: Like it? Love it? Hate it? Review!

tell me what you think. :D


	4. The Story Of Us

Hey guys! So here's another chapter! Sorry the last chapter pretty much SUCKED. It was awful, I'm so sorry! I really really tried to make this one better, so go easy on me? Thanks, loaf you all!

Just a heads up though: I will only be updating on weekend from June to late March. Sorry, it's just that I'm going back to school! So yeah, studies first. Hope you guys understand!

Anyway, here's the new chapter! (Chapter 4, is it?)

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games cause it's too awesome. Just sayingg.**

* * *

**So here's what you missed:**

**Cato cornered Katniss on the roof and mentioned Prim and Gale. Then he just left her there in the elevator mentioning the phrase "blueberry pie". Katniss is puzzled wondering why he mentioned blueberry pie when it hits her suddenly on how she knows him. And that's what you missed on Glee.**

**and on with the chapter!**

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It was late May, almost Prim's sixth birthday. My father and I were hunting with Gale, and luckily stumbled upon two deer and a turkey. It was great game that day, the biggest we've had in years. I still haven't come upon that much game until now, even. But my dad had an idea, something he didn't even want to tell me. He said that it was a surprise, and asked Gale to bring me home while he trades off with someone. Gale did as he said, but not before I questioned what my dad was doing.

"Where are you going?" I asked. For a ten year old, you could say that I am persistent.

"Somewhere, Katniss. Let Gale bring you home. I promise I'll be there soon."

"Why?" I wasn't convinced, and when I looked at Gale I could see that he wanted to know the answer, too.

My father sighed, exasperated. "It's something for Prim's birthday. Just don't tell her that I traded something for her, okay?"

My eyes lit up in delight. A surprise for Prim! Yes, I would certainly keep that secret. Anything for her. "Okay."

So Gale did bring me home, and Dad returned an hour later. He said that he's been "doing business". Prim looked convinced, but Mother didn't buy that so easily.

"Business? You mean trading?"

My father gave her a look, meaning for her to quiet down or she'll ruin Prim's surprise. "Uh.. yeah you could say that."

"What did you trade your game for, then? Where is it?" I sigh. My mom wasn't so easy sometimes, even if she was with my dad.

But father just glared at her, hoping she'd be quiet. His eyes softened a bit, once realizing how obvious and harsh he must look. "It's... um..." he trailed off.

"Where? Where is it?" She continued to demand answers and ranting on how hard it is to provide money for our family. Prim looked scared and was cowering behind the table. She usually does this when they fight. I wrapped her in my arms and held her close to me, whispering soothing words in her ear, while trying to catch my father's eye. He finally did, and saw what their fight was doing to Prim. So he took my mother's arm and led her to the other room to discuss what he's been doing.

When they both came back, my mother looks like she's fighting off a smile and father looks happy as well. Prim calmed down and we began to eat dinner. I shot my mom a glare, and both my parents apoligized for the argument and just then it was forgotten.

I never stopped bugging my father on what he got Prim though.

When we were out hunting I would always ask him. _What did you get Prim? What does it look like? Do you think she'll like it? Is it another pet animal like that Buttercup? Why aren't you telling me anything? Is it because she won't like it? Did you trade the full price? Who did you trade it with? Is it nice? Does mother know? Why aren't you answering my questions? _And so on and so forth. Of course, he never answered, wanting to surprise me too. Usually I get annoyed, but sometimes I just shrug it off, knowing it's useless. I really try though, to coax information out of him. Threatning him never works and so does blackmailing. He just laughed and called it nonsense and I would end up mad and not shooting enough game. So he does his best not to piss me off.

Two days before Prim's birthday, he told Prim to invite a few of her friends. Madge and Rory were the ones she picked, along with two unfamiliar people: Leigh Valentulus and Vanessa Reyes. Leigh was the daughter of merchant, or so was I told. Leigh lives with her mother and brother, while her father was in District 2, doing some important business. She was going with her brother to the party, who was my age apparently. Vanessa was the florist's daughter. Prim told me that she didn't have much friends, so she invited Vanessa to her birthday celebration. She was an only child so that meant she was going alone and had to be at her house early.

My mother was fretting over our house the day before Prim's birthday. She wanted to make the house look beautiful enough to impress Leigh and Vanessa. And especially, Madge. My father and I tried to convince her that there's no need but mother wouldn't take no for an answer. So we just let her clean every speck of the house. Even washed Buttercup, the _cat_ for crying out loud. Still, I said nothing.

Prim's special day finally came and we surprised her by yelling in her face, "Happy Birthday!" Hey, we may not have much but we make sure birthday's are special. Anyway, Prim was laughing and crying at the same time, and squeezing that scruffy old cat. We ate breakfast quickly. Mother made sure that Prim and I looked good, and that's when the first guests came in.

Rory and Vick went in and embraced Prim in a simple hug. Whereas Gale, who was twelve, knocked Prim off her feet and lifted her up in the air. He was tall and a bit muscular for his size and was able to lift Prim like she weighs nothing. She shrieked and laughed as Gale carried her around. Soon afterwards, Madge arrived with Vanessa. Madge gave her a simple bow with flower on it, while Vanessa gave her a boquet of flowers. Of course. She's the florist's daughter, after all.

Lastly, Leigh came with her brother. He was blonde, like her, and had bright blue eyes that made him look handsome. He was tall, for our age, and he looked like he _could _survive if we were ever put into the Games. He could be easily identified coming from another district, with his golden her shining bright throughout the district and his blue sparkling eyes. For a florist's boy, he wasn't what I expected. Leigh looks exactly like him, except for her long hair and small form.

It was then my father decided to usher us into the living room. It's very small, I tell you. We could hardly fit. But then again, what could we do? Nothing, cause this is the world we live in and none of it is fair. So we just decided to squish the younger kids on the couch while the boy, Gale, Madge and I decided to lean on the wall.

Gale was the first to talk to me. "What's up with the florist's boy?" he whispered.

"Huh?" I whispered back.

"Him," he said, "He looks different. So does his sister. Never seen anyone like them before. Except maybe baker boy and his family. Other than that, I've never seen anyone with brighter blue eyes."

Baker boy is Peeta Mellark. The boy with the bread. He has never liked Peeta that much - though I don't know why - and seemed to call him baker boy everytime he mentions him.

I shrugged. "Me neither. Maybe he's from another district? Heard his father's in Two."

Madge turned to us and was about to say something, but my father told us to head towards the meadow. We're going to have a picnic, I guess. The kids looked excited, and so did my mother and Hazelle, but Blondie - my nickname for Leigh's brother - merely yawned, then sighed. I looked at Gale and Madge and it looked like they caught that, too. But we did nothing about it and just followed everyone towards the Meadow.

I was the last to file out, letting Gale and Madge out first. They were talking. If I could say, I'd think Madge likes Gale and he likes her. But I could never know for sure, because Gale masks his emotions very well. He's not very easy to read sometimes. I was about to close the door when someone pinch my arm. I whirled around and saw Blondie. I shut the door first before asking him, "What?"

He didn't even look uncomfortable when he asked me. "What were you talking about with him?"

Oh crud he heard! "Uh.. who?" I asked innocently, pretending that I didn't know what he was talking about.

"That boy. He's one of the Hawthorne kids, right? Gale, is it? He's the eldest."

I was surprised. First, that he actually knew his name. Second, that he actually noticed the Hawthornes. Because, no offense, no one really pays attention to kids from the Seam. We're treated differently cause we're the "scums" and "dirty" kids. Whatever.

"Yes, it's Gale. And it's none of your business what we're talking about."

He seems surprised for a moment, then a flash of annoyance are in his eyes. "Uhuh. Well it became my business ever since I heard my name. So, what were you talking about?"

Of all the stupid things I do, I blush when he says that he heard his name. That was a dumb thing for me to do. Dumb thing for me _and _Gale to do. We just _had _to talk when he was in the same room as we were. I mentally curse myself.

Blondie didn't sound like he was threatning me or anything when he was talking. He was just being curious. So I don't look at him and just stare at my feet, until Gale calls out my name. "Katniss! Katniss!"

Almost immediately, I rush down the porch and towards Gale. He stands a meter away from the fence. When I reach him he wraps one arm around me. "Where were you? Madge asked me to find you. They said they weren't going to start until you and the kid were here."

I smile sheepishly at him. "Sorry. Got held up by Blondie over there. Heard our conversation earlier."

Gale laughed at me. "Blondie? Is that what you nicknamed the kid?"

I laughed along, but stuck my tongue out. "Wouldn't you at least say that it's better than 'the kid'?"

He stuck his tongue back out at me and led me to the meadow.

It's peaceful over here. The perfect place for a picnic. Vanessa looks relaxed for her first time beyond the fence. Leigh looks worried, she hasn't seen her brother yet. But Prim, Prim was laughing along with Madge, who looked so overjoyed. She has been bugging me for a while to take her outside the fence. Who could blame her? I mean, wouldn't you want to know what's outside?

Gale bolts for Prim and Madge and they both shriek, surprised. He doubles over in silent laughter. Madge and Prim begin to laugh, too, at the face Gale is making. His expression is priceless.

Blondie returns and sits beside Leigh and Vanessa. Leigh begins to ease up a bit, and when she sees Prim and Madge she joins them. Vanessa follows afterwards. I'm left staring at the five of them while father and mother set up the picnic. I know that it's going to be small, since we can't afford much. Maybe just a serving of food and that's it. But I'm in for a surprise when my father bellows on the top of his lungs, "Blueberry pie!"

It attracted everyone's attention. We rushed immediately to my dad as he takes out the the biggest pie I've ever seen. So this is what he got Prim for her birthday! Pie! Yes, the deer must be enough for one. But then he pulled another pie out and I knew he traded both deer. The baker must have been pleased.

We ate, and I have to say, that must be the best dessert I've ever had. The first dessert is more like it. It's so delicious and it's blueberry! I know Prim's fond of blueberry, and so am I. I can tell everyone here's ecstatic to taste the cake. Even Blondie, who looks like he could eat the cake with his eyes. He catches me looking at him and winks. I stare at the ground, blushing. What the heck was that?

After everyone finishes the pie, we just play in the meadow. Prim, Leigh, Vanessa, Rory, Vick, and surprisingly, Gale, are spinning around in a circle. They all laugh until they fall. This repeats a few times, until they're all looking sick. Even Gale looks a little green. Madge and I crack up looking at all of their faces. And it's surprising, since I rarely smile and laugh.

Blondie taps me on my shoulder and I look at him, surprised. He bowed in front of me and I curtsy humoring him. And then he does the most surprising thing.

"Would you care to dance?"

What? Did he just say... _dance? _"B-b-but there's no music!" I said, then covered my mouth with my hand, surprised by my outburst. Did I just say that?

"Yeah, there's none," he shrugs, "But what's the harm?"

Wow. Blondie - this guy I barely knew - is asking me to dance with him. In a meadow. At my sister's birthday celebration. With my parents and younger kids around. I sigh, and mentally agree with him in my mind. What's the harm, anyway?

"O-okay."

I look at Madge. She just stares at both of us, and when she realizes that we're both staring back she jumps in surprise. "O-oh! Oh, yeah! Go Katniss!" She blurts out before scurrying off to Gale.

Blondie chuckles in surprise and hold his hand out to me. I hesitatingly take it. I must seem calm in the outside, but in the inside everything screams _'What the heck, Katniss? You're ten years old! You shouldn't be doing this sappy romance thing with a guy!' _But I just ignore the voice and dance.

It doesn't take a few more seconds for him to realize that I really suck at dancing. He grins at me, mockingly, and says, "What's the matter girl? Can't dance?"

I grit my teeth and flash a sarcastic smile. "Shut up."

He laughs and lets go of my hand. I see that no one's attention is directed towards us. And for that, I am glad. Blondie grabs my hand again and leads me towards a part of the woods. Here, birds are chirping and singing to each other. The sound of wings flapping could be heard from miles away. Blondie shoots me a smile.

"My father was on a mission," he suddenly said to me, "The Capitol knew that he was smart and that he was the best. But my father, he wanted to refuse. But the Capitol threatened us, my family that is, so there was no way my father would not give in." He paused for a while, then continued, "He had one request and that was to send us to Twelve. He said that this was the safest place, though we do not know why. We've been here for maybe four years now. Leigh wasn't even born yet when we went here," he remarks sadly.

I looked up at him in surprise. I suspected that he might have came from another district, but didn't know that the Capitol was so harsh on his family. How could they do that to his father? Threaten Blondie's family's life just for the sake of some _mission? _I dared ask one question.

"Why are you telling me this?"

He stared at me for a while, then laughed. And laughed even harder. Why was he laughing? Was it something I said? I wait for him to finish, and he finally does. "That," he says, "is a really good question. Why _am _I telling you? You're just some scum from the Seam."

I growl at him. "Watch your mouth." Yes, we're part of the Seam. But that doesn't mean you should mock where we come from!

Blondie smiles at me. "I guess since you were talking about me earlier, you'd want to know. You should really learn to tone down, you know."

I blush again and he laughs. I'm suddenly furious with myself for being so obvious. I blame you, Gale.

I looked up at Blondie again. "Thank you."

Whatever smile he was holding earlier falls. "For what?"

"For telling me about you."

He shrugged and whistles a two-note tune. The birds kept up. And I realized what they were. "Mockingjays.."

He smiled again. "Yeah, there's a lot of them in 11. My mom told me. And she also taught me this tune." He whistled another tune, but this time it has four notes. It's beautiful. The mockingjays hesitate for a moment before copying Blondie's tune. It sounds beautiful, even coming from them.

Then Blondie turns to me suddenly and says, "Sing."

Sing? Sing _what? _My father taught me a few songs, I guess. The Valley Song was one of my favorites. But I already sung that on the first day of classes before. So I settle for the one that I used to sing for Prim, when she had nightmares.

_Deep in the meadow, under the willow_

_A bed of grass, a soft green pillow_

_Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes_

_And when again they open, the sun will rise_

Everything is silent. Blondie is staring at me, his eyes wide as saucers. But I continue the song.

_Here it's safe, here it's warm_

_Here the daisies guard you from every harm_

_Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true_

_Here is the place where I love you_

His face remains impassive as he watches the mockingjays settle on the tree beside them. They make no noise, just listen. Every one of them are drawn to her voice and the song.

_Deep in the meadow, hidden far away_

_A cloak of leaves, A moonbeam ray_

_Forget your woes and let your troubles lay_

_And when again it's morning, they'll wash away_

More mockingjays ascend on the tree branches. Even the baby mockingjays, that look so adorable perched with the older ones. Blondie's face is still impassive, though his eyes betray his emotion.

_Here it's safe, here it's warm_

_Here the daisies guard you from every harm_

_Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true_

_Here is the place where I love you_

As the last note was sung, Blondie looks at me. His eyes are watering, and his jaw is set tight. I was about to reach out to touch his shoulder when the mockingjays start their own rendition of the song. It is peaceful. It is calm. It is beautiful.

And I almost get a heart attack when Prim hugs me from behind.

"It's beautiful," she says, "It's beautiful Katniss! Sing more! Sing more!"

She is certainly active today, thanks to the pie. This might be her best birthday yet.

Gale and Madge appear by my side, too, and they hug me with Prim squished in between. Blondie hesitates before he embraces us all. Gale looks surprised, but Madge just gives me a wink. Unfortunately, Gale catches it and shoots me a questioning look. I shake my head, meaning not here, not now, and he scowls with a jealous look on his face. I smirk at him.

When we break out of the group hug, Blondie crosses over to me and says, "So, see you at school?"

I am surprised. I am delighted. I am happy.

"See you at school."

* * *

His mother just died. Pneumonia, mother said. She didn't tell anyone at first. And by the time she finally consulted someone, and it was too late for Mother to heal her. She died then, in Blondie and Leigh's arms.

Blondie - I never really asked his name, and just teased him by calling him Blondie - and his sister were leaving. They were leaving for Two. He said it wasn't surprising. He saw it coming, he said. It had to happen sooner or later.

It just had to be sooner.

But he promised. He promised he would come back every year. To visit me. Prim. And make sure that we were okay. He promised that he'd be there for me, he'd try to make it. He kissed me on the cheek.

The year he left was the year my father died. Blown up in the mine explosion. And I kept waiting, and waiting, and waiting, for him to come. He said he's try. He promised. But then, he was just

Gone.

* * *

A/N: So, yeah, here's the new chapter! Hope you like it! Since this is practically the most depressing chapter that will ever come out. so yeah, haha.

Hate it? Like it? Love it? Review!

Peace and Love (like Alexander Ludwig says on twitter!)

xx


	5. Promise

Hey guys. I am so so so sorry cause I promised some of you that I was going to update yesterday but I didn't. I am SO sorry cause I was so preoccupied! Stay with me. LOLOLOL. Anyway, here's your chapter! ;)

Bear with me if this chap sucks okay.

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. S.C. does.**

* * *

okay so here's this song that I absolutely LOVE by David Guetta. I think it's good for some parts of this story.

_I am lost, I am vain,_

_I will never be the same_

_Without you, without you_

_I won't run, I won't fly_

_I will never make it by_

_Without you, without you_

_-David Guetta (Without You)_

* * *

When I wake, the first thing I remember is his face.

His face was the last I saw the night before.

His face was the one that almost kept me wide awake the whole night.

And when I finally slept, it was _his _face that kept appearing in my dreams.

Yep. His face.

Most people would be terrified to see Cato in their dreams. He might be breaking a tribute's neck or slicing their stomach open with a sword in their nightmares. But in mine, his face is comfort. He is an old friend; or was, rather. He was the person I used to lean on when I was troubled or sad. When I had problems. When he and my father left, Gale replaced the hole in my heart. But somehow, the scars never did heal. I realized, that after all this years, I still needed him.

But he changed. I should've known that he would've been trained once he went back in Two. How foolish of me to think that he would still be the same boy he was years ago! How foolish of me to hope, after all we've been through! _But he was the same, _a voice rings out in my head, _he was the same last night. He might be like the Blondie I knew. _Should I keep my hopes up that he is the same, or should I just accept that he is not the boy I once knew?

When we reached the Training Center, I knew for sure that last night didn't change anything between Cato and I.

We were the last to enter. Everyone was there, formed in a center around this woman. When we came, she told us to take our positions. It was then she introduced herself as Atala.

Atala gave us things to look out for. She also practically gave a speech on how even the smallest things could kill you, from berries to tracker jackers. She begins talking about another topic. Water. I stop listening to her, since I know this already, and glance at the other tributes; starting from Eleven. Both tributes' faces remain impassive, but I detect a twinge of fear in Rue's eyes. The boy, Thresh, notices me looking at Rue and stares at me. I don't stare back. Instead, I look at Ten's tributes. I doubt they'd last the bloodbath. The same with Nine to Five. Four's boy and girl tributes are small. But maybe if they flooded the arena, like they did in Annie Cresta's year, they would survive.

Three's tributes are doubtful. Not much muscle in them. They are pale and skinny. But both tributes are tall. And then there are those from Two. Petite Clove, with a sadistic look in her eyes. And alright, she looks kind of scary for such a small girl. I make sure not to underestimate her. When I look at Cato, I see that he is already staring at me. But his face doesn't have the calm expression he wore last night. Instead, he has a smirk. He looks at me as if I'm puny, which sends me into rage. When he notices me staring at him he leans down to Clove and whispers in her ear. She glances in my direction and like Cato, smirks. I roll my eyes at them, having no interest to let them intimidate me or vice versa, and wait for Atala to finish speaking. When she finally does, I head to the knot station with no second thoughts, remembering Haymitch's advice to steer clear of our strengths.

Peeta doesn't follow me, though. Instead, he goes to the fire station. And guess what? He's a whiz at it. Probably because of his experienced time at the bakery. The instructor there at the fire station beams at him, proud. Like the knots station, I doubt that section gets lots of attention from the tributes. Except, from the lower districts like ours.

The instructor has Peeta try out different materials in lighting a fire. His eyes hold a certain determination, something I never saw until now. He tries to light a fire using one material, which I'm not that familiar with, and fails. But he tries and tries until he finally lights it. His eyes light up and he grins. The instructor gives him an applause, which captures the attention of some tributes. _He's good at these kind of stuff, _I think. And as if on cue, his head shoots up and blue eyes hold my gaze. He gives a small smile. I look down, feeling my cheeks heat up.

Soon, I get bored at the knot station. The instructor is chatting with one of the others and basically ignoring me. My hands are sore and dying to get my hands on a bow. I _need _to get my hands on a bow! That girl from One keeps trying to strike a bullseye and always fails. She smirks at the other non-Career tributes anyway. As if she's better than me. No offense to her, but I'd get a better chance at getting a bullseye with an injured arm than her _without _an injured arm. For a Career, she's not really that lethal. All she can practically do is throw a knife almost close to the target, flirt with Cato and put make-up. As if that's going to help her in the arena.

I get bored watching her and tying knots and head towards the camouflage station. Peeta is there, mixing two kinds of paint. He's really good at this. I watch him for a while, and then he explains how he does this. _I do the cakes at the bakery, _he says. Prim loved those cakes. Especially the ones they did during winter. The snowflake-decorated cakes made her mouth water, as well as mine. She wanted one so badly. But ever since my father died, we never could afford something so precious from that bakery.

Peeta begins to talk about his life at the bakery. I zone him out, not wanting to be part of any conversation. I just nod everytime he looks at me expectantly. Eventually, he catches that I don't want to talk and I just watch him in silence. His arm looks like a piece of wood. It looks so cool. In fact, when he placed his arm on one of the tree trunks his arm looked completely camouflaged. It's perfect. There is a chance that the boy with the bread will survive the arena. And I surely don't want to be the one to kill him.

Lunch comes and we file in towards the dining hall. Peeta and I are once more the last to arrive. We grab our trays and line up to get our food. The dining table is long enough for all tributes to fit. Some engage in conversation, though some, like the Careers, assess the other tributes according to their size. I slide down on the only chair left in one row. Peeta sits across me, Rue on my right and the boy from One on my left. He sneers at me and scoots on the edge of his seat. Peeta and I roll our eyes and start eating. Rue shoots me a grateful look, though. Probably happy that it was me who sat beside her.

I notice that Cato keeps glancing my way. He looks at me when he thinks I'm not looking. Whatever I do, I feel his gaze on me. And throughout the meal, I feel uncomfortable. I try to return his gaze and when I do, I shoot him a look that says don't-mess-with-me. He looks down and I grin triumphantly. Peeta gives me a questioning look and I shake my head meaning to say _not here, not now. _He seems to understand this because he nods and finishes eating.

All of us file out and head back to the Training Center. When I pass the archery station, it takes every single will I have not to go over there and shoot an arrow. I want it so bad. I _need _it so bad. I am so desperate. But I just try the different stations and try not to attract attention.

And of course, my plan to stay clear of attention fails miserably when the girl career from One walks over to me.

"Hey girl on fire," she says tauntingly, "Whatcha doing there?" I do not answer her. I have no interest in what she's doing or what she's planning to do. She can go flirt with Cato for all I care.

My actions angered her, apparently, because she repeats her senseless question. "I _said, _what are you doing there?"

Just because I am terribly annoyed, I answer her. "What do you think I'm doing?"

She laughs a terrible laugh. "I think you're being an extreme _bore. _You've been hanging out in the stupid stations. I don't even know why Cato was staring at you at lunch earlier. You have absolutely no purpose in his life. _Especially_ since you're from the lower districts." And with that, she gives one last laugh and heads towards the Careers. The boy from her district and Clove looked pleased, but Cato didn't even acknowledge her. He's too busy slicing the dummy with his sword. The girl who came up to me stops him by putting one hand on his chest and the other on his bicep. I don't know why, but this even makes me more mad.

While she's busy flirting with Cato, I strode over to the archery station. The _nerve _of that girl to say those things to me! She's the one who's _worthless _with a bow and arrow! Who does she think she is? I grab a bow and arrow and aim it. I let go, and bullseye. It hit the target.

Inches away from the girl's face is my arrow, which sunk into the dummy she was leaning on.

Both Cato and the girl are shocked. No, let me rephrase my sentence. _Everyone _in this room is shocked. They're all staring at the arrow, then at me, then the arrow, and back. The girl looked furious and was staring daggers at me. I only shot her a cool expression, and a smirk. I curtsy, just to add to her fury, and put down the bow on the rack. I exit the Training Center, but not before hearing someone say, "Looks like you've messed with the wrong person, Glimmer."

I don't want to go back there. I don't want to face Peeta. So I go up to our floor and go to my room. And there, I rest.

Dinner is okay. Not much talk, but that's okay too. Peeta does not tell anyone about what I did, and for that I am grateful. If he did tell them, Haymitch would chew me out for sure. After dinner the 'adults' talk and we are confined to our rooms.

Since I slept earlier, I am bursting with energy. I try counting from one until a hundred, then a thousand, but it doesn't work. So I head towards the roof. My nightgown flows comfortably beside my feet as I walk. The wind hits me full force. I am silent this time, as I sit.

A part of me hopes that Cato doesn't come today. I want to be alone and peaceful. I don't want to see him in my dreams tonight. I don't want to remember about his broken promise. I don't want to remember what he did for me. I don't want to remember him at all.

But another part of me hopes that Cato does come here tonight. I have a lot of unanswered questions. And a part of me misses him. Misses him so much that I could tackle him in an embrace. We were the closest of friends, and when he left, my father had to practically pull me from our last hug. I want to know why he gave me that promise. I want to know why he never kept it. I want to know what has been happening to him. I want to know if the old him is still there.

And so he does come.

I don't hear him at first. But then my hunter instincts kick in, and I find myself face to face with his chest. He has a smile on his face. A smile so gorgeous that I wish he wore it more often, instead of his sarcastic smirk. He looks younger like this.

Before I know it, my arms are wrapped around him and his around me. We hold each other like this for a while. Then he sweeps me off my feet and lifts me up in the air. I laugh, glad that he's back. God, how I missed him. When he puts me back on my two feet, I hug me again and this time tears begin to flow down my cheeks. He bends down and wipes them away. He places a gentle, beautiful kiss on my forehead. He titls my chin up and says, "You remember."

I smile. "Of course. Do you really expect me to forget you, _Blondie?_"

He laughs at his old nickname. "Yeah, well _Spitfire,_" he smirks at me,"You're not the only one who can make nicknames."

We laugh for a while and then I burst into tears again. He is there to comfort me. He whispers soothing sounds in my ear, and finally I calm down. We lay there, me on his lap and him, rocking me. We do not speak. Our silence says what words do not. But before I fall asleep, I ask him, "You'll come back?"

He smiles, and a tear slides down his cheek. "I promise."

* * *

A/N: How'd you guys like it? How'd you guys hate it? Either way, REVIEW! I would appreciate it if you did!


	6. DRAMA

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

It's comfortable, really, falling alseep in Cato's arms.

His warmth envelopes me. With his chin resting on my head, I fell asleep to the sound of his breathing on the roof.

But this morning, I wake up on my bed. I am wrapped around the yellow blanket, instead of his muscular arms. I am alone.

There is a note on my dresser, though. Taped on the mirror. I like to think that it was sealed with a kiss. It may seem to girly for Cato, but I've seen him in love before. He's done some stupid and weird (though romantic) stuff.

I got the note and read it, silently.

_Dear Kit Kat,_

I grimaced at the nickname.

_I'm sorry. I had to leave you last night. You're heavy for a girl your size. Must be those squirrels you used to eat. Haha._

Very funny, Cato.

_Your mentor, Haybitch is it?, found us on the roof._

I laughed at his mention of Haymitch, but turned serious when he said that he found us on the roof. I shudder involuntarily.

_I just told him that I found you there asleep. I think we should keep our friendship a secret._

Why?

_It would be safe for both of us in the Games._

But - !

_Don't talk to me in the Training Center._

I whimper as I read this.

_Don't look for me in the Games._

I will.

_Your stubborness might kill you._

I'll be careful.

_Just remember that I'll try to protect you as much as I can during the Games. But you have to promise me you'll be careful._

I promise.

_I love you._

Oh.

Wait - what?

He _loves _me?

Cato... loves me?

Oh. _Oh. _I should've known. After all these years.. he still remembered me? He never forgot me? He loves me?

_Take care._

I think I might just love him too.

_-Cato._

He signed the letter with his name, and then that's it. I ripped the letter into pieces and threw it in the trash can. Not because I hated him, of course. But because he is right. We have to keep our friendship - or maybe love - a secret. It would be safe for both of us. But, it can be dangerous, too. If one of us dies, we'll blame it on ourselves, for not being there for that person.

I showered, then headed towards the dining room. They were all there. Peeta, Haymitch, and of course, Effie. They were not talking, but when I went in, they stared. Peeta's expression held curiosity. Haymitch smirked. Effie looked angry. Uh oh.

"And where have _you _been? Haymitch and Cinna was looking for you all night! Peeta and I were worried sick!"

Peeta looked down on his plate sheepishly, all the while blushing. Why the heck is he blushing? Haymitch snickered at me, and I glared at him. Then, I looked at Effie and put on an innocent smile as I said, "Oh I was just going for a walk for fresh air on the roof."

Effie sighed in relief. "Well, what took you so long?" She gasped. "Did you meet anyone up there? Did they touch you?"

I shrieked "No!" while Haymitch guffawed. He must find this _very_ interesting. Screw you Haymitch. He then tried to copy what looks like my face.

"Oh, sweetheart, are you sure you didn't meet anybody there? You might be doing something terribly _awful._"

OK. That's it. I grab the steak knife and slammed it millimeters away from his fingers. He errupted in a fit of laughter as I was sneering at him. Peeta looked red, too, trying to hold in laughter. Effie, however, looked very distraught.

"That is mahogany!"

Haymitch, still chuckling, takes out the knife. "Look at you, just killed a... placemat!"

This time, both Haymitch and Peeta cackle out loud. Their laughter rings out the room. I can't take these two anymore! I march out of the room as Effie tries to stop the two idiotic boys from destroying anything while laughing. None of them even notice I'm gone.

Furious, I stomped towards the elevator and punched the Training Center's floor. That was the only place I could get away. If I head towards the roof, I will be late again and they would've started without me. Not like I care but, like Effie said, they wouldn't want their "star tributes" to be late.

I was alone, and I used that as my advantage. I went to the archery station and picked up the same bow I used yesterday. It was made of metal, and the string was dangerously thin. But surprisingly, strong. The arrow feathers looked like they were dipped in silver, to match the bow. This is the first time I've ever seen those kinds. The ones my father used were made of wood and the arrow feathers looked like a dull bird's wings. Those were the ones I was familiar with.

I load my bow with arrows and hit the bullseye everytime. I don't train, but I hunt a lot. And I never miss. I'm one of the few who could actually survive in the Games, or so Gale said. Or used to say, since that's the last time I'd probably hear him say it. How I miss him.

I concentrate on the target, instead of Gale and my family. And time goes by fast. Next thing I know, the tributes are filing in the room. I immediately put down the bow and arrows and wonder what their reactions will be. Will they ignore me? Will they praise me? Will they _fear _me? Will they be smug? Will I be targets?

My questions were answered when all of the tributes were there, including Peeta. Once again, we were in a form of a circle. Some of them avoided my eyes, which meant they feared me. I don't like being feared. It gets attention. A few, like Rue and the tributes from six and seven looked up at me with admiration in their eyes. Even more attention. Thresh and the District One boy merely ignored me. I like that. Cato and Clove looked at me smugly. But I caught a hint of respect in Clove's eyes. Was it respect for standing up to Glimmer or hitting the target, bullseye? Both, I guess. Speaking of Glimmer, she was glaring daggers at me. Jealous for having the guts to stand up to her _and _proving myself as a worth opponent. I just roll my eyes, having no time for her games and look straight at Peeta. He looked surprised that I actually caught his eye, then looked away. His gaze suddenly flitted to his shoes, like they were so interesting. I roll my eyes at him, too.

Atala begins on a different speech this time, and I barely pay attention. As soon as she is done, I go to the snares station. I can't go to the archery's today. It was a mistake for showing my strength yesterday, and I won't do the same mistake again today. This time, I'm going to try to keep on the line. I'd stick to what Haymitch said. I was just lucky that Peeta didn't tell on me to Haymitch. I make a mental note to thank him later.

A thousand snares later, the lunch bell rings and we all head to lunch. Peeta decides to ditch me for the district five tributes. They all eat in silence, and I can tell that Peeta is uncomfortable by the way he fidgets. I shrug to myself and head for district Eleven's table.

Rue was more than delighted for me to sit with them, and Thresh accepts my presence with a nod. When we are all settled, he starts telling jokes to Rue and I. We laugh out loud, and I'm sure all eyes are at us. Rue blushes, but I turn to Thresh to hear more of the joke. It seems that he is more of himself when Rue is here. I guess that makes sense, since she is his closest grip on home. And like him, I am more of myself at home. Because she reminds me so much of Prim.

After lunch, Rue wanted to join me at the stations. But both Thresh and I told her no. It would be dangerous for both of us. If they knew we were going to ally, then they will make her a target, too. They will use her as their weapon, my weak point. If they hurt her, they will hurt me, too. She reluctantly went off, but I promised her that I'd find her in the Games if I could. She agreed.

I am so sick of making snares and tying ropes. It's the same procedure all day. So I decide to go to the knife-throwing station. Clove is there, hitting bullseye all the time. She is alone, so I guess that's a good thing. Cato is in the swords station. One's boy is by the spears, and the girl is having hand-to-hand combat with the girl from Four. I'm pretty sure she's in the alliance, along with her boy tribute.

Clove glances at me, and narrows her eyes suspiciously. I merely glance at her and pick up a stray knife, hanging my one of the ledges. The other knives were on the racks. Someone must've left their knife there. Oh well. Finders keepers.

Clove steps back, to give me more room. She even curtsies mockingly, for effect. She sneers and the other tributes join as well, to act cool or something. Or maybe to persuade her to let them join in the alliance. The tributes from Eight huddle behind her. The boy puts his hand on her shoulder, and she shrugs it off in disgust. Then she stalks off to the sword station, with the two tributes trailing behind her.

I aim my knives each time at the center of the heart. It usually misses. Sometimes, it's so close, but other times it hits the shoulder. I try the head, and it always hits bullseye. I feel triumphant, then the feeling deflates when I realize that I'd lose hands down if my opponent was Clove. If Cato's the sword master, she's the knife ninja. Her aim is flawless and so is her stance. Who knows what else she can do?

The tribute boy from Seven stands behind me in the knife station. I don't know why, but when I hit the heart or the head he claps softly or mumbles encouragement. He's just there, watching me. Not even trying it out. The trainer volunteered to teach him to do something, but he declined. Weird boy. He's about to say something to me when Cato comes strolling up to him.

"So, where's my knife?"

Knife? What knife? Seven's face was filled with confusion. He doesn't know what he's talking about either.

"What knife?"

Cato pushes the boy harshly, but he does not fall. He backpedals a little bit, then stops. Cato shouts, "I put my knife right there!"

They are both yelling now. "I didn't touch your knife!"

Cato lunges for the boy's throat. I gasp as they both plummel to the ground. Cato grabs his neck and squeezes, not strong enough to cut off his air supply but strong enough to weaken him. His eyes show panic and his face pales. His hands struggle to get Cato off him. The tribute's voice, though weak, says "I didn't touch your precious little knife!"

Cato growls and raises his fist to punch him, and this is when I choose to act. I climb on Cato's back and gets him off the tribute. He gasps for air, while Cato recovers. When he sees that it is me who pulled him off, he roars, furious. Wow. I pissed him off. Just great. Oh and look! The boy tribute from Seven is yelling for Peacekeepers. _Joy._

All eyes are on me as I say, "He didn't touch your knife Cato! I did!"

Cato walks towards me, until my nose hits his chest. He looks down on me, and casts a shadow. His face is full of sadism and anger. His chest heaves up and down as he seethes. "And why would you do that? To prove that you're better than me? To prove that to your slum district and pathetic sister?"

I don't know what Cato's issue with his knife is, but talking about my sister that way is where I draw the line. Insulting my district is one thing, but my sister is another. No one does that and gets away with it. _No one. _

Cato knows he did the wrong thing when my fist raises in the air. He moves to duck, but is one second too late. My fist connects with his nose, and he staggers back, clutching his face. He is shocked, he never anticipated that I'd do that. Well, he came too far with his insults. _Too far. _

I storm out of the training center and head towards my room. I don't want to go to the roof. Cato might find me there, and who knows, he might yell at me. So instead, I go to my room for some peace and quiet. And random thoughts begin to fill my brain.

This is the second time I've stormed out of the room.

I violated the rule Haymitch, Peeta and I made yesterday.

I remember Cato.

Cato loves me.

He taunted my district.

He insulted my sister.

But even if he did those things, and even though I am so ticked off at him, I think there is a part of me that could be in love with him.

I let those sappy thoughts rule my mind. I have never thought like this before, and the idea of love is foreign. This is one of the very rare moments when I let someone in my life. Because almost everyone I love gets taken away from me. One traumatizing experience particularly taught me that lesson.

I order food in my room. I do not want to face Haymitch, Peeta and Effie, as much as I've grown to love some of them; even if they extremely annoy me sometimes. Right now, I want to be alone. Especially after what happened in the Training Center.

After the Avox takes away my food, I lie in bed, not particularly sleeping. Just staring at the ceiling, thinking of nothing. I don't know what to do. I can't sleep, the nightmares might just come and that's even worse than the day itself. So I just lay there. At around midnight, I hear the door open, but do not turn my head to look at who entered. I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep. But then the voice who calls out surprises me once more.

"Hello, Kitty Kat."

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A/N: So Cato meets Katniss again! DUH. Am I predictable? Hahaha

thank you guys for reviewing i loaf you all. c: Seriously! I love every single one of you. 3

Peace and love and xoxo,

Cheska.


	7. The Fight

Hey guys. So this chapter is really short… and I apologize for that. I am so so so sorry! It's just that I didn't have enough time today! But I promise that I'll make it longer next time. Promise.

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

Am I awake?

Am I dreaming?

Am I hallucinating?

I pinched myself really hard in the arm, until my skin broke and blood was drawn. But no, I am not dreaming. I am not hallucinating. I am awake.

And in front of me stands Cato.

His arms are crossed in front of his chest, and he looks at me with a blank expression, but his body is tense. His stance may scream confidence, but his biceps are very tense with what emotion I do not know.

He looks at me as if he did not do anything wrong. He looks at me as if he forgot what he did. He looks at me as if _I _made the mistake.

Damn him and his pride.

"_Get. Out," _I say, while looking at him dead straight in the eye. I give him the most murderous glare I can manage in my half frozen state. He does not flinch, nor laugh. His face remains impassive and they hold no emotion. His eyes, however, give away the slightest tinge of anger. Then it disappears.

I march over to him and hammer my fist on his chest. I am beating his chest, like a gorilla. I think that I can annoy him or at least get him to back down, but he does not budge. He doesn't step back. And his face doesn't even change.

Damn me and my pride, too.

"Get out you evil, traitorous, cocky, mons - !"

But I never get to finish my sentence. Cato somehow picks me up and throws me over his shoulder, and locks the door. I drill my fist on his back, trying to get him to put me down. But once again, he doesn't comply. He wrestles me into the bed and puts my hands above my head, and straddles my waist. We are in a kind of intimate position, but neither of us acknowledge it.

He smirks when he notices that I am trying to get him off me. I feel my face becoming red from the effort of pushing him off. His weight and bulk is an advantage for him, and his height, too. But I struggle anyway. In the end, he still wins. So I give up.

Cato laughs. And in my mind, I think of every vile thing against him.

"Oh so what're you going to do now, Cato? Kill me? To bring pride and honor to your district?" I say, while mimicking his voice at the last sentence. He must know how much that hurt me. He must. And now, I'm using it against me.

But Cato merely laughs. "Oh, Kit Kat, what are _you _going to do about it? I could kill you now, that's true."

"This is my bedroom, you idiot," I spit at him, "I can scream for whoever I want."

With that, I begin yelling. "Peeta! Haymitch! Cinna!" My voice is uneasy, though loud. Someone must here me. Someone must.

Cato sneers at me and leans in close. Too close. His breath is hot on my face, and I feel trapped. There is no room for escape this time. Even in my own bedroom, there isn't.

"Oh Kitty, I pity you. Even if you can yell, they won't be able to get you."

As if on cue, Peeta and Haymitch start banging on the door, yelling for me to open up. I yell back that I can't. They still bang anyway, hoping for me to open up or for them to get in. By bargin in, I guess. But the Capitol's technology is advanced, and you can only get in from the inside if locked. There's no spare key. And that's exactly what our problem is.

Cato smirks. "See what I mean?"

I sneer at him. "What are you doing here, Cato? Come to taunt my district? Or insult my sister to my face?" Tears start pooling in my eyes, but I will none to fall. And none does.

His face drops at the mention of Prim. He looks genuinely sorry. But I know better.

"I'm sorry, alright? I was just so mad! I lost myself."

"Like you're losing yourself now?"

Cato lets go of me immediately. He swallows hard, as if there's something hard and thick down his throat. He backs up to the corner of the room, like he's been charged at.

I turn away from him. I don't want to rememer his face. I don't want to remember what he did. I don't want to remember our memories. I don't want to remember him.

Cato puts a hand on my shoulder and I flinch, accidentally. When I turn to look at him, his face looked crestfallen. Then his face turns hard and cold and I swear I can see his nostrils flare.

This is not the Cato I know.

This is the Cato that they've trained for the Games. The monstrous, bulky boy from District 2. The killing machine. The one who can snap your neck like a twig in a fraction of a second.

Yes, this is the boy I am seeing now.

Outside, I hear the pounding of Peeta and Haymitch's fists.

But the pounding in my ears is louder.

So loud, that it didn't prepare me for what would happen.

Cato grabs my shoulders and pushes me towards the wall. My head hits it hard, and I feel nauseous. The impact knocked the breath out of me too, that I can barely think straight. His fingers dig on my shoulder and the throbbing in my head increases. The pounding force is making me so dizzy. My mind is spinning, and suddenly I see two angry Catos. Wait – what?

Suddenly, the pressure on my shoulders is gone and I can breathe again. I am vaguely aware of the fact that I fell to my knees. My arms are braced on the tile floor and the room is spinning. I feel like I am in outer space, bouncing around in the aircraft. My head is still pounding and so are my ears. I can't hear anything. All I know is that I'm on the verge of passing out, black spots appearing on the edge of my vision.

Cato has retreated to his previous corner in my room. His face looks shocked and hurt, and he stares at his hands like they choked himself with it. He then looks at me, and mouths a few words. I think they are "I'm sorry", but I can't be too sure.

Cato then opens the door and leaves the room. The bright light from across the hall makes me squint and cover my eyes with my hands.

All I can manage to remember before blacking out is staring into two different, bright blue eyes.

* * *

A/N: Okay guys, I just want to thank ALL my readers/reviewers. You're all awesome i SWEAR and i would give y'all an award if i met you in person. Anyway, hope you enjoyed!

Peace and love,

x.


	8. Saved By The Bell

Hey guys.

I just want to say that all my reviewers are awesome. You're amazing in eveery SINGLE way. 'Cause you're all bee-yoo-tee-ful!

Parental Warning: This chapter is really really super duper ultra foxfaced long. Your children might be exposed to some eye bleeding after reading. You were warned.

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own The Hunger Games cause it's got too much swag. See what I did there?**

* * *

Bright light.

Well, not really light.

Sunshine.

Streaming through the windows of a room. Birds are chirping, mockingjays singing. Everything outside seems peaceful, calm. Everything screams that it will be a good day today.

But my heart feels different.

All signs of happiness is present outside. In my heart, though, it is different.

There is a storm raging, inside of me. To forgive, or not forgive Cato? I mean, I don't blame him. The Capitol raised the people from One and Two to train their children for the Games. Their children were not taught to control their actions, they were taught to expose it. Expose their power, muscle, and strength. They were taught to act, not to use their brain.

But deep inside, I am emotionally scarred for what Cato did. He is my friend. He was, all along. Never had a time passed that we ignored each other. Now, that might change. I still have the option on whether or not I should forgive him, or whether he's going to stand up to me and apologize. I just know, deep inside, that a part of me may not be able to forgive him and his brutalness. I fear for that part.

I fear for him.

But he promised me. He promised in his letter. He promised that he'd try to protect me, in an alliance or not. But now we're fighting. He would keep that promise even though we're not on the right terms, wouldn't he?

_Yeah, sure, _I think to myself, _he promised he'd be back when he left and look what happened. He never came back. _

I sigh to myself and sit on the bed. I was so lost in thought that I did not even notice my surroundings.

The room is covered with bright blue wallpaper, striped with green; my favorite color. Things are messed up, shorts and shirts thrown on the floor. The room itself is messy. A glass is sitting on the dresser, with a comb and some gel. This, I realize, is so _not _my room. I get up to leave.

And that's when I notice the blonde boy sleeping on the floor.

His eyes are closed and his hair is messy. He's shirtless, just wearing his boxer shorts. His muscles are relaxed, and so is his face. One arm is draped across him, while the other is on top of his head. He's snoring, quietly, and a drop of drool falls from his mouth.

_Peeta. _

I almost laugh at him. _Almost. _I never knew the boy with the bread acted like this. I always thought he was a neat person; since he acted like it at school. His clothes were always clean, and his hair at the reaping was slicked back. His shoes were shiny. But here, in his room, everything's a mess. And so is he.

Well who wouldn't be in a mess? We are halfway in the Games, after all.

As soon as my foot touches the floor, one bright blue eye snap opens. The other follows. And Peeta sits up, lazily, and blinks as he looks at me.

I realize that it was him I saw last night, before I blacked out.

They were the same eyes. Not Cato's. Cato's were stormy, a raging blue color. Peeta's was calm, soothing blue. His eyes are the best thing about his appearance. That's for sure.

Peeta yawns, his mouth forming a huge letter 'o'. He blinks again, and stares at me; as if deciding if I'm for real or not. Then he smiles a sloppy smile and asked me how I was.

I only say, "I've had worse."

And it's true.

His smile drops and he frowns. He shakes his head. "We were useless. Pounding on the door was useless. We couldn't find a key, the door's so high-tech it could only be opened from the inside. We couldn't do anything. I swear I tried! I even asked Haymitch if we send an Avox to get someone; but he declined. Mumbled unimportant stuff. So we waited there, outside, until he left. And then you were unconscious."

Peeta paused, deciding on what he should say next. After a while, he speaks. "Haymitch said that he's going to talk to Brutus," he says softly. "He said that he'll threaten him if Cato doesn't stop abusing you."

I snort. "Leave it to drunk Haymitch to think of a brilliant plan."

Suddenly, he's laughing and I'm laughing then we're both laughing and I don't know why. We're practically wheezing, now, doubled over in laughter. My eyes squint shut, my lungs craving for air. We just sit there, doubled over, giggling like two lunatics who escaped the mental hospital minus the drab gowns.

When we both recover, I realize how much that actually helped me. Helped me lighten up, a little. Helped me think that this day started out well, and might just end up well, too. But it did not help me enough to forget. No, not that much.

Peeta's face turned serious. "He didn't... touch you... did he?" He asks, awkwardly. His face visibly hardens, and so do his eyes. "If he did..."

I shake my head. "No, Peeta. He didn't."

He nods. He understands. I think.

We walk outside of his room, me leading the way, and head towards the dining area. We are greeted by no other than Haymitch.

And Cinna.

Thank God.

I don't think I would survive with _just _Haymitch there. I need someone, aside from Peeta, with me in the dining table with him to keep Haymitch in line. Because, who knows what he'll do to me? Or Cato?

Cinna greets both of us with a smile. Haymitch, suspiciously, grins innocently and wiggles his fingers at us in a girly way. He positions himself like a girl; back straight, chin up high, hands on his lap. The way Effie's positioned.

Once both of us are seated, Haymitch smiles sweetly at me. I consider ignoring him for the rest of the meal, but then he stabs a knife I didn't see before on the table.

_That is mahogany!_

Haymitch drops the petty act. He slouches, like he's glad to stop pretending. He glares at me; so intensely that I feel it bore into my soul. His eyes shoot daggers. If looks could kill.

"What the _fuck _happened last night, Sweetheart?"

Peeta glares at him. Cinna stares, as if he couldn't believe he just said that. I simply look at him.

Cinna interupts. "Haymitch..."

Haymitch sighs. "You of all people, Cinna, should know damn well that we have to coax it out of her! We have to protect her now! She can't afford to be a target. After all she's been through. She could change _everything._"

Everything? Change everything? What.. how?

Haymitch turns to me. "So let me ask again, Sweetheart. What the _hell _was he doing in your room last night?"

All eyes are on me. I take a deep breath, and speak.

They all listen to my story. From what happened to the Training Center, to my room. I don't mention our short encounters on the roof. I don't mention my history with him. I try to be as vague as possible, all the while giving specific, important information, so he won't get suspicious.

"Well, sweetheart, starting today, you're sleeping with Peeta." Haymitch smirks.

Peeta blushes. "W-well, not in t-that way of c-course..." he trails off.

I glare at him. "_You think?_"

Haymitch and surprisingly, Cinna, double over in laughter. Their cackles ring out in the room. Peeta blushes even more. I glare at the two men cracking up. The nerve. Frustrated, I get out of the room. No one follows.

I hear Haymitch's voice though. "Well, boy, you managed to screw it up with her," he says, in between breaks of laughter.

Oh, Haymitch. If we were in the arena, you'd be dead by now.

Frustrated, I head to my room to take a bath, to take my mind off things. I go ahead with this and enter my room.

Everything's back to normal. Though, it looks like no one has ever been here before. The mattress is stripped off, no blankets and pillows. Just your average bed. The dresser is empty, and so are the cabinets. I bet that they've transferred all my stuff in Peeta's bedroom.

Sighing, I hit the showers. Hot water streams down my skin. I wash the dirt off me, and pretend that I'm at home. I try to pretend that we have hot water just for a day, and that when I walk out, Prim would be ecstatic to go to school. I can just see her in my mind, saying her usual statement. "Come on, Katniss! We're going to be late!" I can just envision her in my mind, jumping up and down, her piglets bouncing, ecstatic to go to school.

I step out of the showers and wrap myself in a towel. I open the closets and remember that my clothes are in Peeta's room. Which means that I have to go outside and show myself. Wrapped in a towel.

Crap.

I have no other choice. Ordering would just mean the same thing. I'd have to wait, and whoever sends it to me will see me. Which is worse. I sigh, heavily, and storm out, my hair dripping wet.

No one is in the halls. Nadda. Deserted. I smile to myself, and shut the door as quietly as possible. I tip-toe to Peeta's room, and surprised to find him fast asleep; just like he was this morning. He lays the same way, except that he's on the bed this time and probably just showered. He smells different.

I enter his room and search the closet. I was right, my clothes were here. Haymitch must have sent someone over the night to transfer my things. I take out the required training uniform. The same kind I wore yesterday. I enter the bathroom and change quickly, hoping that Peeta won't notice that I've gone here. I just remember that I forgot to lock it when I'm just taking off the towel. But it's too late.

The doorknob twists just as the towel drops to the floor; and in enters Peeta. His face is groggly, and I can tell he's half asleep. He doesn't have time to notice I'm here when I shriek. He jostles, awake, and looks at me. Then his eyes widen and he turns his back to me but I've already hid behind the shower curtain, embarassed. My cheeks are flushed. He covers his eyes, even if his back is turned.

"Did you see anything?" I demanded.

"I... uh..." he stammers, clearly as embarassed as I am.

I yell, "Get out!" He does as I say. This time, when he leaves, I lock the door. I change as fast as I can, not bothering to check my reflection if I look okay. I am pretty sure that the blush is still present on my cheeks. When I'm done changing, I run out of the bathroom and to the elevator; not wanting to see Peeta.

No one runs after me, and I decide to go to the Training Center already. Glad to see that it's deserted, I go to the archery station. My favorite. The only thing I'm good at. I pick up the same bow I used yesterday, and notch an arrow. The arrow is different, this time. The feathers are beautiful; they look like they were dipped in silver. They have a metalic-looking like streak, which even makes them more unique. Beautiful.

Back home, it would be hard to make bows and arrows like these. My father made the bow himself, carved from wood. The arrows will be the same dull ones that are commonly used. Plucked from feathers of a turkey. We couldn't afford to use the silver material that coated the feathers of the arrow. It was too much for us.

I count every bullseye I get. _One, two, three. _Minutes pass. _Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. _Time runs. _Twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven. _Grab, notch, let go. Grab, notch, let go. The same routine over and over again.

When I reach fifty three, the first tributes start to file in. I know by the voices that they are Careers. I quickly drop the bow and arrows and hide behind the tree in the camouflage station. They cannot see me.

I watch as they gape at the arrows I left in the archery station. Everyone wonders who did this. The girls furiously demand who it is, and the boy from One just stares at it admiringly. Cato purses his lips and stays quiet. He knows, too well, that it is I who did it. He knows.

Clove turns on him. "You know who it is, don't you, Cato? Who is it?" she demands him; her shrill voice echoing. Glimmer flips her hair, to catch his attention, and puts a flirtatious smile on her face. She twirls a strand of her hair, and puts a hand on her hip.

Disgusting.

Cato laughs, mockingly. "I promise you, Clove, whoever did this will pay. She will die first."

Clove doesn't believe him. She narrows her eyes. "How did you know it's a girl who did this?"

His stance or eyes doesn't betray any emotion. "Do you really think a guy would do this? They're all puny this year! 'Cept me, of course." He winks at Clove. She doesn't melt.

Glimmer does, though. She got all googly-eyed and winked back at him. She even giggled. Is this girl for real?

Just as Clove was about to retort something, more tributes come in. From District Three to Ten. When Rue and Thresh go in, I spring out from my hiding place and hope that no one caught me hiding there. I'm glad, when I see everyone busy with themselves. Except one.

Cato.

He stares at me from his station. He has a disbelieving look on his face. He frowns.

He knows I was listening.

I didn't want to look at him any longer, so I just head towards the knots station. Tying knots. This has become a personal hobby. The only thing I can afford to do at this stage. I haven't even noticed Peeta come in until he taps my shoulder. My first instinct is to snarl at him, but he has a weird, panicked expression on his face. This can't be good.

"Don't look now, but District One is heading for you?"

I look.

He is right. The boy from One is walking towards us. When I catch his eye, he smirks, which is probably the most disgusting thing I've ever seen. I turn to Peeta.

"How do you know he's not talking to you?"

"Because I'm not the one with -"

"Hello, Girl on Fire."

One stands before me. His smirk is still on place.

I answer, curtly. "Hello, One."

"Can we have a little chit chat? _Alone?_" He gestures to Peeta.

Through my eyes, I plead Peeta not to go, not to leave me alone with this monster.

He leaves and mouths a 'sorry'.

I'll get him back later.

I stand up and face the boy from One. He is about a foot taller than me. He's thinner, which is surprising since he came from a wealthy district. He should have more muscle on him, like Cato.

But then again, no one's exactly like Cato.

The boy speaks. "My friends over there," he gestures towards the other stations,"want you in our alliance Girl on Fire." He flashes me a smile and winks. Is that supposed to turn me on?

I answer casually, "I'll think about it."

"I think I can change that."

The boy walks towards me. For every step he takes, I take a step back. I don't trust this guy. He has no right to push me. I feel uncomfortably claustrophobic, and trapped. This is certainly not good. I think of calling for help, when the boy puts his hand on my upper thigh.

In the corner of my eye, I see Peeta running towards me.

But it is too late.

Cato has reached us already. He yanked up the collar of the boy from district One. He whispers, deadly low, "Hey, Marvel. I'd like to teach you a lesson."

The boy - Marvel - pales. His face shows fear, and if I were in his place, I'd certainly feel fear. This is Cato we're talking about. Marvel tries to escape, but Cato drags him towards the doors. Then there is silence.

Everyone is silent. No one speaks. Some eyes are on me, some are on the door. I can't even think about what Marvel just did to me. My focus is on the doors. Everyone stares at it, intently. Only Peeta walks towards me and puts a hand on my shoulder. I squeeze his hand gently.

Then we hear a howl.

An agonizing grunt follows.

We all know what's happening outside.

No one stops Cato, not even his fellow Careers. Even them stand, surprised. In their group is Clove, Glimmer and the tributes from Four. They must be in the alliance.

Then the doors shuffle, and inside strolls Marvel.

A collective gasp is heard, and everyone starts murmuring. The Careers don't do anything.

To tell you the truth, I'm not surprised.

Marvel's jaw is bruised, with black and blue spots all over. His cheekbone has a small blue print. Another bruise. One eye is swollen. It is clear that he's going to have a black eye by tonight.

This is what you'll look like if you mess with Cato.

Oh, and there he goes. Strolling through the doors, with a triumphant grin on his face. He looks at everybody's gaping stares, and his grin even widens. He puffs his chest out, like when he was by my room last night.

Cato catched my eye and starts heading towards me. I don't look anywhere else. When he reaches me, his eyes soften a bit, and they crinkle at the edges. He has a small smile on his face, which looks really soft. Cato notices Peeta beside me. He ignores him. He opens his mouth to speak and -

The lunch bell rings.

Saved by the bell.

* * *

A/N: Woo! So glad this chapter is _finally _over. I warned you! I told you guys it was long!

Did you like it? Hope you did.

Anyway, I got to go now. It's almost midnight and my fingers are sore. Goodnight guys.

Peace and love.

xx.


	9. The Scores

Hey guys. Well, I see in your reviews that my last chapter wasn't the longest you've read. I apologize or something 'cause, like, I only read chapters _that _long. Longer makes me feel... bored. Idk. Maybe there's something wrong with me.

But then again, I _am _a fangirl and EVERYTHING is wrong with me. ;)

Anyway, new chapter! I think this one is really boring though. Oh well. :-)

do me a favor and follow me on twitter? hutcherwife_

On with the story.

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games**

* * *

Cato stood there for a moment, with his mouth open; about to say something. Then the bell rings, and he just walks away to a table on the far end of the room. He doesn't say anything else, or glance back at me. He just walks away.

With a numb feeling surrounding me, I walk towards the lunch line with a forming thought. _He just saved me from getting... molested by that freak, _I think. The thought is supposed to be comforting, but it makes me shudder instead. To think that I almost got into that terrible situation! It's disgusting! I involuntarily shudder again.

I sit down with Rue and Thresh. They were quiet today, and I can tell why. They were dreading the training scores, dreading the time that they would face the Gamemakers. After all, our fate is in their hands. Who wouldn't be terrified for that? Everyone would be.

Well, everyone except the Careers. Everyone except Cato. Their confident grins stand out in the whole room, making them shine among the sea of gloomy faces. Everyone lost their humor today, except them. They laugh and joke around at their table. They toss food, occasionally, at each other; without a care in the world.

Except Marvel. Marvel doesn't laugh with them. Marvel doesn't throw food at Clove or Glimmer, the people who he catches attention from the most. Instead, Marvel shuts himself out from the group. He cowers from Cato-who sits across from him- and glares at his food, his head down. He does not speak, he does not eat. No one bothers him.

I still haven't answered them. Not _yet. _I'm going to have to clear it up with Haymitch, too. Even if he's drunk all the time, and never serious when he's sober, he always knows the right thing to do and say. He's our mentor, after all.

Lunch goes by slowly, and I am glad. Like the others, I don't want to show my face out to the Gamemakers. I don't want to 'impress' them just for the sake of entertainment. I don't want to reveal my skills to them; for those skills are the ones I only share with my family and Gale.

The silence in the room is terrible. Well, it is almost silent. But the echoes of laughter from the Careers are still heard, even if we are seated on the farthest edge. Cato's laughter howls the loudest of them all, and each wave causes a pang in my chest, making me think of how he is enjoying this so much and how I wish _I _was the one making him laugh. If only things were different; if only we didn't fight.

If only he didn't have to leave.

_Selfish, _I scold my self. _Selfish, selfish, selfish. _I am so selfish. I didn't want him to leave because I am _selfish. _I didn't want us to fight because I am _selfish. _Disgusted with myself, tears pool in my eyes. Selfish.

Rue sees them and she grabs my hand. She gives a gentle squeeze, one I am grateful for. I give her a small smile, blinking the tears away. She gives an even bigger smile and we go back to eating. If Thresh notices anything, he doesn't mention it.

Then the lunch bell rings again, which signals the end of lunch. I cast a terrified and worried look at Rue. She has the same look on her face. This time, I reach to her and hug her warmly, trying to soother her the way I do to Prim. Rue hugs me back.

All the tributes line according to their districts. Glimmer is first, and she smiles triumphantly. Behind her, Marvel raises his head and brings a confident smirk on his face. But that attitude doesn't fool me. Every blow Cato made must've still ached.

I feel someone's eyes on me. I look behind Marvel and past Clove, and see Cato staring at me. _Speak of the devil, _I thought. He has a worried look on his face, which is surprising; since he usually keeps his emotions cast aside and his face impassive. But now, his eyes have lost the hardness that everyone is familiar with. Cato mouths something to me.

_Good luck, _he said.

He turned back and faced Clove. Her eyes were searching his face, as if decoding the secrets his face holds. She looks at me. Her eyes are questioning, and I find myself getting confused. Since when do Careers have sides that we all don't know about?

Glimmer looks at Clove. She puts a smirk on her face, covering her previous reaction. _Well played, Clove, _I think sarcastically, _Well played. _

The speaker buzzes. Everyone in the room jumps. Some swear. Behind me, Peeta huffs surprisedly on his breath. I can imagine his face, scowling at the speakers. I fight a smile off her face.

"Glimmer Careyn," the speakers announced. The voice is monotone and formal, and definitely formal. Glimmer turns back and looks at Cato. She puffs her lips out, and winks at him. She gives a flirtatious giggle and walks towards the gate to the other room. The gate-surprisingly- opens and she walks in. There must be cameras in this room.

At the corner of my eye, I see Clove scoff. Marvel has a smirk on his face, but he doesn't turn around to meet Cato or Clove's eyes. Coward. Cato turns away from the other two Careers and the two tributes from Four, but I see him roll his eyes before he does.

One by one, the tributes file in. They come, and go. We don't get to see their scores, and what they do. We are just feel the dread rising up in our stomachs, clenching our hearts and choking our throats.

_This is the time to show them what you can do. _Haymitch's voice rings out in my head, his powerful words echoing like waves. He, of course, is right. He was right in the beginning, for telling Peeta and I not to show our strengths. And I was a fool to stand up to Glimmer. Now they know my strength, and somehow, they might use it against me.

The last tribute of District Eleven is called, before I know it. My hands are sweaty. My heart is pounding. I realize, I am next.

_Bow and arrows, _I think. _Get the bow and arrows. _

Beside me, Peeta shifts. He takes one look on my face and knows I am worried. Surprisingly, he just grabs my hand and gives it a soft squeeze. I fight the urge to slap his hand away, and just smile at him.

Too soon was I called. Too soon had the speaker rung out, "Katniss Everdeen."

My turn.

I am halfway towards the gate when I hear Peeta's voice.

"Katniss," he says.

I whirl around to find him staring at me. He is still seated, with his blond hair matted to his forehead from sweat.

"Shoot straight," he says.

I nod, not knowing what to say, and turn back. _Well that was awkward, _I think. _That situation was... odd. _

I step inside the new room. Almost immediately, the gates begin to close with Peeta behind them. I can barely see the outline of his figure, but I know he is there. He nods his head, as if saying, _Go. _

So I go.

The room is fairly big. It is composed of all the stations that they had in the training room, excluding the climbing station. Though I don't know why. The Gamemakers must have thought that it would have been no use to them, or for the other tributes.

Whatever.

Briskly, I walk towards the archery station. There sits the bow I've been using for the past two days. That holy, silver bow that I'm practically used to handling already. I grab an arrow and notch the bow, holding it still, and-

Wham!

The arrow sails through the air and lands on the red line.

It didn't even hit the bulls-eye.

I stand, surprised that I missed. Chuckles are emitted from above, surely from those wretched Gamemakers. They're laughing at me. No. They're _taunting _me. This infuriates me even more, watching them laugh at me and get so engrossed in a stupid roast pig and-

Wait- roast pig?

My eyes travel to Seneca Crane. He catches everyone's attention as he raises his glass. Everyone cheers, and enjoys the sight of that _stupid, dead, roast pig. _Dead. I am upstaged by a dead pig.

I am on the brink of losing it.

I can feel my anger radiating through my skin.

If this was a cartoon, I bet I'd have steam above my head.

Grabbing another arrow, I aim it towards the apple of the pig. I give myself a few seconds to cool off, to debate with myself before I let go of the arrow. But it's too late.

I already let go.

The arrow sails through the air with surprising speed and hits the apple and pins it to the wall.

_Bullseye_.

Shocked faces. Open mouths. Wide eyes. Surprised stares. Angry glares. They are all directed to me. One man even fell in a bowl of punch; which would have made me laugh any time. But not now. This is no laughing matter.

I smile, innocently at them, and say mockingly, "Thank you, for your consideration." I leave the bow on the rack, and storm out of the room; leaving them with their mouths gaping. _Good._

I don't go back to the twelfth floor. The others, especially Haymitch and Effie, would've wanted me to explain what I did. And I couldn't afford to tell them, after wasting their effort of keeping their tribute alive. Effie would probably faint.

So I go to the roof. And head to the garden. The wind whistles, and it blows on my back. I take off the tie to my hair, and let it flow freely on my back. The scent of flowers is carried by the wind, making it smell like perfume. I lie down on a bench, close my eyes, and relax.

Minutes-or hours- later, I am shaken awake by a dark figure. I bolt upright immediately- facing the attacker. It is too dark to see his face. I realize that I have fallen asleep on the bench, and now my back is stiff and so are my limbs. I groan, involuntarily, and rub my eyes. I try to focus on the figure of my attacker, but it's just too dark.

"How did you get it?" The voice sounds familiar. In fact, the deep tone sounds a lot like-

"_Cato?_" I double take.

The figure-Cato-nods. "How did you get it?" he asks again.

I groan. "Get what?"

He scowls, and says, "Your training score!"

I give him a confused look, willing for him to see me. "What training score? _They already released the training scores?"_

I may not be able to see him, but I know he just rolled his eyes. "You got an eleven."

I sit, shocked, and try to digest what he just said. I got an _eleven_. _Eleven_. That is the first time anyone's ever gotten an eleven. I made Hunger Games history. I shake out of my trance. "Are you serious?" I ask.

Cato barely nods. "Yeah, it was on television minutes ago." Cato pauses. "How long were you here?"

"I went here after I shot an arrow at them," I say softly.

Cato grabs both of my shoulders. "You _what?_" He shakes me.

I flinch. "Calm down, Cato, I was ticked off, okay?"

His breathing slowed down, and he took his hands off me. "Okay."

He grabs my elbow and makes his way to the elevators. I know what he's going to do. He's going to bring me back. I sigh, knowing that sooner or later I'd have to face them all. He gets in the elevator and drags me with him. Inside, he punches two buttons. Twelve and Two.

The elevator starts to go down, and I have barely enough time to say, "Thank you," when the elevators stop and arrive on my level. The doors open, and I was about to go out when-

Someone dragged me inside the floor.

And punched Cato right on the face.

I gasp, surprised, and shriek. Haymitch drags Cato to our floor, too. Cato was too surprised to react. Just when the elevator doors closed, Cato shrugged Haymitch's hand off his collar and threw him to the floor. I yell again.

"Stop!" I say, "Stop it! Both of you!"

Haymitch tries to punch Cato again. Surprisingly, he succees. Cato's face is red with anger as Haymitch gets on Cato, but someone pulls him off. Peeta.

"What the hell is happening?" he asks me.

I don't answer. Instead, I glare at Cato and Haymitch. "What did you do that for?" I ask Haymitch.

He ignores me. He says to Cato, "If you touch her again I'll make sure Brutus doesn't send you _anything_," he threatens.

"He didn't touch me! He found me on the roof! _Asleep!_" I yell at him, frustrated.

Cato ignores all of us. He stands up and walks back to the elevators. The doors close behind him, and they descend, bringing him with them.

Perfectly pissed off, I march to my room and make sure to slam the door. It closes with a loud bang, and I sink down on the bed. Frustrated tears make their way down on my cheeks. I close my eyes, not anticipating what tomorrow will bring.


	10. I'm In

OK, so it was a week since I updated. And I'm kind of busy with school so I haven't been doing my fanfiction at school. So yeah if you're "excited" (which I highly doubt) with my fanfiction then just tell me and i'll try my best to update as soon as I can.

Anyway, I'm going to make this a really really really long chapter :)

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. (Just the concept of this story, though i had some inspiration)**

I wake up with dread in my stomach.

Tomorrow was the interview day. And I never want it to come.

I groan, never wanting to leave this bed. If only I could stay here in the bed, staring at the ceiling. If only I was at home with Prim.

If only I wasn't in The Hunger Games.

I sigh. _But you had to do it, _I think to myself. _If it wasn't you, it would be Prim. _Yes, it would certainly be Prim. And what are the odds that she would survive-against the Careers and Thresh and the other threats in the arena? That was what sent me bounding through the aisle that day, and volunteering for her. I was doing this for her.

But what about Cato? What would I do? He did seem concerned about me last night-and curious, might I add-and he didn't really fight back that much when Haymitch was going to beat him up. Did he do it for his sponsors? Did he do it for Haymitch? Did he do it for me?

I sigh for a second time, and get up. I silently hope that it's not too much to ask that there's no one in the dining room.

Unfortunately, it is too much to ask, because Haymitch sits there glaring at a piece of bacon on his plate.

_Joy. _

I begrudgingly trudge to the table and pretend that he isn't sitting there. At the corner of my eye I see him staring at me as I get my food, and I'm about to leave with my plate when he calls for me.

"Sweetheart," his gruff voice said.

I tense up at the pet name, and immediately anger rages through me. How _dare _he call me by his pet name for me after last night's occurences!

I make my way back to the table and slam the plate down; though not hard for it to shatter, it's hard enough for it to make him jump in surprise. He glares daggers at me, but I don't care at all.

"What?" My sharp tone slices through the air.

He narrows his eyes, the gray color now looked black. "I want you to tell me everything. _Every single damn thing that you know about him._"

I look at him in surprise, and raise a cocky eyebrow. Does he think threatning me will make myself tell him what happened? Yes, he has the choice of killing me off in the arena by not sending any gifts or sponsorships. But then everyone in the district-and maybe including Peeta, for that matter-will hate him.

Haymitch sighs. "Look, sweetheart, I want to get you out of there. I really do. But if you got some..." Haymitch thinks of a word. "Mysterious relationship with that boy, then you better tell me now or get it out of your head!" He bangs the mahogany table with his hand in a fit of rage.

I look at his deep-set gray eyes and notice how he much he is like me. Same appearances and features, and somehow, we have the same way of thinking. And I think again to what I thought yesterday: That he is right, and that I'm supposed to listen to him.

So I do.

I tell him everything this time. From the day we met, to what we were doing here in the Capitol. It isn't that easy to be so honest and open with him since I like keeping these things with Cato personal, but I tell him anyway.

Haymitch purses his lips when I tell him about Prim's birthday party, and my father, together with Cato and Gale's presence. I don't know how to read this action. Is it disappointment? It certainly is bad news, but exactly how bad?

When I finish, I am worn out from recalling all the sad and bad memories. My mind feels like it's going to explode from memories and sorrow. I feel like burying myself in a hole and staying there, just to get away from all this.

Haymitch speaks first. "Well, sweetheart, you really got a mess of things."

I'm about to reply, and say that I did know that from the day I saw Cato, but he cuts me off. "As of now, you're going to get ready first with Effie. Peeta requested seperate training."

I am taken a back. Peeta? _Seperate training? _I bite my lip, trying not to lose my temper. How could this be? I trusted him! I feel my face flush with anger, which I can barely control. I am so disgusted with myself for thinking that maybe-just maybe-we'll be able to partner up in the Games. But no, my plans are ruined.

_Already the boy with the bread is planning to kill me._

Haymitch notices my expression, but doesn't say anything about it. Instead, he says, "Go. She'll be by your room in five."

I nod, and grab my plate. I reluctantly trudge to my room and shut the door. I barely acknowledge my legs sliding down, and I am left leaning on the door for support. I throw my head back and laugh a sinister laugh. _I am so busted, _I think.

An hour and five minutes later, I have two aching feet, a sore back, and a pounding head. Every part of my body is _killing _me. And we're not even in the Games yet.

I enter Haymitch's room after lunch-which was lamb stew _again_-and find him sprawled on the chair, sober. His chin is resting on his hand, and he looks extremely bored. I hope that this 'session' will go better than Effie's, but I begin to doubt that.

I sit on the chair across him, and he just sits there, too, observing me. I feel unnerved, somehow, but I don't show it. Instead, I raise a taunting eyebrow at him, and an annoyed feature takes over his face. I smirk on the inside, adding to the hate I've earned for Haymitch ever since last night.

After a while, I feel myself get bored as his eyes still placidly search my face. _What on Panem is he trying to accomplish by doing this? _I give him some time, wanting him to talk, but eventually I've reached my boiling point. We're getting _nowhere, _and just wasting time. So I decide to let myself get angry.

"What?" I snap, obviously annoyed.

Haymitch smirks. "I'm deciding which angle you should take. You could be cocky, I guess, but you're really bad at it." He smirks again, which made my temper flare.

"Well what are you waiting for, then? Tell me what angle I'm supposed to take!" I don't get angry. Usually. But I'm really in a bad mood-being so close to the Games already-, and I don't think I can be more annoyed than I am now.

Haymitch seems to think about this for a second. "Did you stab Effie's wig this morning?" A sly grin takes over his face, and for a second, I almost smile. _Almost. _

"No. It's a good thing she let me go on the dot, or else I would've ripped those stupid nine inched heels and threw it at her wig." Haymitch cackled, but I wasn't finished yet. "Then she would call me barbaric and send me off."

Haymitch finishes laughing. "Well, sweetheart, you're humor's okay, but we should really start with something that fits your image."

I sit there confused. "Image? What do you mean?"

He rolls his eyes. "You're Katniss Everdeen. The girl on fire. The first volunteer from 12. She who saved her sister from The Games." He pauses. "Live up to your image. As a protective sister of some sort, or maybe that brave girl we saw on the chariots. You, Katniss Everdeen, have to live up to your image." He repeats what he said.

I am taken a back by the power of his words. It's as if he is speaking for all of Panem, excluding the Capitol. The power of his speech... it's as if he's rehearsed them and spoken it out loud. But I doubt the words are as powerful as the people really think it is. I bet I'm just another tribute fighting to the death... another piece in their Games.

The Games that by no chance I will pay fair.

Haymitch eyes me in a suspicious way, but this time I don't pay attention to him. Instead, I glare at the pencil sitting astray on his desk, and ignores him.

And we sit there for a while, bored as _hell, _until he starts asking me questions. He makes me answer them. I do, but I make myself answer as vague as possible. Irritation crosses his features, until anger sparks in his eyes. I smirk, despite the situation I'm in, and roll my eyes playfully. And that's when he loses it.

He sighs loudly. "I give up, Sweetheart. I've asked you tons of questions and we haven't gotten anywhere with your angle. If I was one of your entertainers, I would say that you've had as much charm as a dead slug."

Ouch. That hurts. Even Haymitch should know when he draws the line with his tributes.

But it was not really that detail that sent me bounding out of the room. It was the detail about my "entertainers" that really ticked me off.

"What do you think I am? Some kind of stripper of some sort? We're being sent into _The Hunger Games, _for crying out loud," I spit out, "I have _no _entertainers like _you _said. And I will never have, because I have 'as much charm as a dead slug'!"

I storm out the room before he could say anything else. I don't go back to my room, like I wanted. Instead, I go to the roof, hoping that I could have the peace and quiet I've been longing for ever since I was sent here. I go up the elevator and check the hallways for other people. None.

The roof was empty. Not a person was seen. The lack of wind made me feel empty, inside and out. Though I don't really know why.

I don't know how long I sit on the concrete feel of the floor, with my legs tucked under me. I'm twirling a dandelion, when I hear the elevator doors open and close.

I do the last thing I'm supposed to do. Panic. I hide behind one of the walls leading to the garden and listen. Loud and heavy footsteps. A loud huff and a sigh. That can only mean one person. Cato.

How is it possible that he appears when I'm alone _all _the time?

There's a snort, then a pause. His voice rings out. "Katniss... I know you're here."

I'm not brave enough to say anything, so he fills in the empty question that I was thinking of.

"Haymitch told me," Cato said. I hear his feet trudge somewhere, and I know that he is looking for me. "He said that you stormed out in the middle of your session." I imagine Cato shrugging as he looks for me. I imagine him peeking in every meter of this roof until he finds me.

But why _exactly _is he here? Why is he looking for me? Did I do something wrong? Did he want something? Did Haymitch make him find me? Is he breaking the offer of alliance? I was so lost in thought that I did not hear the approaching footsteps towards me. I flinched and tried to run, but there's no place to run. It's too late.

Cato's body towers over mine. It casts a shadow over me, and blocks the rays of sunlight that was streaming openly through the open window. His back is against the sun, and he looks straight in my eye without flinching. I, though, have to squint to see him, since his form is against the light.

"You don't have to hide from me," he says softly.

I look down, ashamed. Since that's what I've been doing ever since the night he barged in my room. "I'm sorry," I grumbled.

Cato laughs. He knows that I'm not used to apologizing, or even admitting my mistake. "How was your session with the drunk? And that crazy fashionista escort of yours?" He makes some twirling motion beside his right temple.

I laugh at him. "Haymitch's was... terrible. But Effie's was worst. 'Back straight! Don't pull your dress up! Don't stutter! Act like a lady! These savages from 12...'" I try mimic Effie's voice with poor results.

Cato cracks up anyway. His laughter booms throughout the room, making it sound scary and terrifying, and almost mocking. "Mine wasn't much different," he says. "But I assure you, Brutus' session was _much _better than Kaylee's." He rolls his eyes.

We just stand in silence. I rock myself lightly on my heels, and he just stares uncomfortably on the ground with his arms crossed in his chest.

"I'm sorry," he says suddenly.

I look at him in confusion. For what?

He answers my question, like he knows what I'm thinking. "For that night when... you know... I totally lost it."

I nod and smile. "Thank you for stopping Marvel."

He nods and stares at me. Blue meets gray. Calm meets calm. Strong meets puny.

Cato clears his throat. "You still have a slot in the alliance," he offers.

I think about it. And when I do answer, there is no hesitation in my voice.

"I'm in."


	11. The Interviews

SOBS

WEEPS

CREYS

Ohai guys. It's been 13 days since I've updated. 13 FREAKING DAYS. Like what kind of helluvah person am I? Ugh. Screw exams, they suck so bad. Especially Science, cause i really suck at science. HAHA.

Anyway, I want to reward you with a double chapter, so I'll try REALLY HARD okay? :D

Maybe I'll update tomorrow. So idk, it's just like a back-to-back chapter instead of a double one. Oh well.

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

The interviews are today.

Personally, I do not want Caesar Flickerman to pry on my personal life, or even my thoughts. I do not want to tell him about my family, and my only sister waiting back home. I do not want to tell him about my only two friends, Gale and Madge, who might be worried sick about these Games.

Personally, I do not want to tell them about Cato.

I understand why I have to hide our relationship. It will cause a distraction between both of us. And it will make us look weak. Who knows? Maybe the Careers might even kick Cato and I out of the alliance. _No, _I think. _Maybe me, but they would never survive Cato's wrath. _

By the time I get readied up by Cinna, the nervousness hit me. It's like a wave of anxiety, half of me dreading the time I go up the stage, and the other half wishing I would just get it over with. My skin prickles at my imagination of the sick, _twisted, _Capitol crowd, cheering for their favorite tribute.

Cinna notices my horrible expression. "What's wrong?"

"I don't want to see _them," _I say through clenched teeth.

"Well think of it this way," Cinna says, "Pretend that you have someone special out there. A friend, maybe."

I think about it. It could work, Cinna's plan. But then again, why would I have to tell Gale the answers to the questions Caesar asks me? And Cato knows almost everything about me already. "I don't understand, Cinna. Gale wouldn't need to know these things." I feel safer, not mentioning Cato's name. But I have the sudden urge to tell Cinna, because he is probably the most reliable person I have now.

"Do you consider me as a friend?" Cinna asks.

"Yes, but-"

"I'll be there the whole time, with the other stylists in the front row. When Caesar asks you a question, just look at me." He takes my hands in his. "You'll do great. I promise."

Two Peacekeepers barge in the dressing room. "It's time," one of them say.

I walk out stiffly, with them walking behind me robotically. I don't want them to touch me. No. That is an understatement. The real statement is: _If _they touch me, I will personally cut off their hands. That is how disgusted I am with Peacekeepers.

Thankfully, it is Cinna who lays his hand on my back. My tense shoulders relax visibly, and I actually allow myself to look at what Cinna has put me into, unlike earlier.

The dress is red, with one strap on my left shoulder. The other is bare, with red and gold gems glittering. But the most remarkable part of the dress is the hem.

When I move, the slightest flick of light glitters, like the jewels on my shoulder. But when I half-twirl, the hem looks like it is being set on fire. Then it is gone, just like that. Just like the spark of a match, it is gone with the wind.

"A fiery dress for the girl on fire." Cinna winks at me.

All the tributes are there, lined up by the stage and concealed by the wall. Beyond us, the roaring screams of the crowd are deafening. Caesar must have appeared by now, which makes me quite late. Peeta stands at the end of the line, staring at me with a weird expression. I quickly dismiss it. This is no time to get distracted.

I vaguely avoid the Careers' stare. Tomorrow, I hope, they will not change their mind about me entering the Careers. I try not to think of Glimmer stealing a bow and arrow and shooting it through my head. And Clove's knives puncturing my heart.

Gross.

Caesar calls the first tribute to the stage. Marvel. He is wearing a blue suit, that somehow matches him. His confident, arrogant stance and smile makes girls somewhere in the crowd scream. They've already fallen for the first tribute.

I don't really listen to his interview. Caesar just asks about his life back in District 1, his friends, and if he has a special girl back home. Marvel just winks, and says, "I'm about to get one." I swear Capitol women fainted right then and there.

Disgusting.

Before I know it, Marvel's two minutes are over and Glimmer's up on the stage. Her dress is _so _short and cream colored, just like her skin. Plus, the dress is fluffy, so fluffy I bet you could see her underwear from down the stage. Her stylist must have gotten ahold of her 'sexy' attitude and chanelled it into her dress. This time, men whistle and Glimmer flips her hair seductively.

Caesar asks, "Woah, Glimmer! It seems that you have captured a lot of hearts tonight!"

Glimmer laughs, and cockily says, "Of course, Caesar. I mean, who wouldn't?"

The audience claps enthustiastically. They, obviously, love her attitude.

Caesar asks her about her family. She has two younger siblings: twins. And she is filthy rich. She talks about all the boys that fell for her back in her district, and the make-up she used to wear back in her home. Half the tributes waiting for their interviews are hardly listening. They're too busy a) being nervous; b) picking their nails casually (like Cato); or c) getting bored (like Clove). I can imagine Cato rolling his eyes inwardly, and that makes me smile.

Suddenly, it is Cato being called up in the stage. His suit is a dark blue, that makes his eyes look so much lighter and beautiful. Hundreds and thousands of women scream: girls of all ages. But I see his eyes flicker for the tiniest nanosecond at me, then it is gone, looking at the audience with a triumphant grin. But I know what he is trying to tell me: That he would rather be looking at me, than at thousands of fainting girls before him.

Caesar says when the crowd calms down, "So, Cato, how's the training back in District 2?"

Cato launches in an explanation of all the preparation that it does for you in the Games. He says the trainers there are hard-working, and so are the instruments they prepare for you. He talks about all the weapons: swords, knives, and spears in all shapes and sizes; tridents that vary in length; spiked maces; multiple treadmills; and many more. But to tell you the truth, it sounds terrifying.

They exchange a few jokes, until Caesar asks seriously, "So, Cato, do you have a special girl waiting back in District 2 or are you going to marry one of the Capitol girls here right now?" Caesar winks.

Cato laughs. "Nah, no. But there is this one girl. She's like my best friend. And she's the most beautiful girl that I've ever seen."

Just on cue, the buzzer rings.

I felt disappointed. I kind of wanted the interview to last longer, in hopes that maybe Cato would admit the girl he was talking about. No doubt, the Capitol crowd must think it's either Glimmer or Clove. In fact, they're yelling names now, on the top of their lungs.

I stand there, pondering, on who Cato might actually like. Glimmer? Clove? Me? Is it actually possible, that Cato might still like me? _Love, _even? There are just too much questions to ask, and too much complications to deal with. These are the Games, after all.

I mentally dozed out during the other's interviews. I only picked up bits and pieces. About the District 4 girl's family, District 7 boy's broken leg, District 8 girl's expertise in painting (which surprises me, since painting isn't really assigned in their district), Rue and her love for singing.

Then the Peacekeepers call me, again.

"Up you go," they say, with a twinge of an accent. Theirs is not as heavy and thick as Effie's, but it can still be heard.

Caesar says, "You know her as the Girl on Fire. Well, let's give it up for the lovely Katniss Everdeen!"

The crowd roars so much, it is ear-deafening. My vision and hearing is suddenly all blurry and blocked, like a phobia. Is it possible that I am claustrophobic? No, it cannot be. Vaguely, I feel Caesar grab my hand and lead me to a chair across him. He speaks in the microphone, but I don't hear him.

"What?" I hear myself say.

The crowd laughs. "I see someone's a little bit nervous," Caesar says.

"So tell me, Katniss, how _did _you get that 11?"

I smiled. "I don't think we're supposed to talk about it," I say, looking at the balcony, where the Gamemakers are. One of them smiles, embarassed.

"Yes, I believe that is true." Caesar fake frowns, and the crowd gives fake 'Aww's to match it.

"Tell me about the flames in the parade. Are they real?"

"Yes," I say. "In fact, I am wearing them now. Would you like to see?"

"W-w-wait," Caesar stammers, "Are they safe?"

I playfully laugh. I can do this angle. I look at Cinna, and see that he is making a twirling motion with his finger. _Twirl for me. _"Yes."

I stand up and look at Cinna. He grins confidently at me, one hand in a thumbs-up. Behind the row of stylists are the other tributes. I catch Cato's eye, and find him grinning ear to ear already. And that's what sets me twirling around in the first place.

The audience loved it. They cheered, and hooted, and clapped like there was no tomorrow. I looked down and saw the hem of my dress catch fire. But like Cinna said on the parade, it is only synthetic. Fake. But I'm glad, for Prim can see me back home in District 12.

Caesar catches my arm and pulls me down, gently, with him. "Woah, Katniss, that was something! That was something," he says.

After the crowd calms down for a little bit, he says, "Katniss, can you tell me about your sister?"

My grin falters a little bit. My sister. The one topic that I wanted to steer clear of. But if I want to survive in these Games, then I have to answer. "My sister," I say, my voice waving, "Her name is Prim. She's the most beautiful person in the world. She's only 12, and I love her so much."

Caesar pats my arm, pityfully. "What would you do if she was in the Games? What would you do if you couldn't volunteer?"

I swallowed the choking lump in my throat. My answer is clear, and everyone knows it. "I'd die."

The buzzer rings, and Caesar stands. He reaches out an arm for me. "Best of luck to you, Katniss Everdeen, and to your sister as well." The Capitol crowd cheers as well, loud as it can ever be.

I take my seat in the second row. Beside me, Thresh's eyes are focused on the stage, at Peeta, who just arrived. The others are staring at me. Rue's eyes bulged, but looked at me with unwavering curiosity and joy. I smiled at her, and she smiled back.

I'm in a daze in the

* * *

first part of Peeta's interview. I can't stop my mind from wondering about Cato's reaction. Does he think that I did good? Does he think that I love Prim more than him? I don't know what to think anymore, and my head hurts from all the worrying. So I focus on Peeta's interview instead.

I realize Caesar has asked every boy the same thing over and over again, just as he asks Peeta, "So, Peeta, do you have a special girl back home?"

Peeta shook his head. "No, no, not really," he says unconviningly.

"Handsome man like you, don't have any girls? Don't you think that's impossible?" Caesar laughs as the crowd screams.

Peeta laughs, himself. "Well, there's this one girl who I've had a crush on since _forever. _But I don't think she noticed me until the reaping."

"Well, tell you what. You go out there, and _win this thing, _then you go back and win her. Sounds good?" Caesar laughs again as the audience shouts encouragement.

"Thanks, but I don't think winning's going to ever work in this case."

"And why ever not?" Caesar looks geniunely clueless. So am I. Peeta has never looked like he had a crush on someone before.

Peeta's eyes catch mine, before saying, "Because she came here with me."

What. The. Hell.

* * *

A/N: Badum Tss. Next chapter's in Cato's POV. :-) Peeta, you better get ready for Cato's evil thoughts! :D


	12. Brutally In Love

Ohai guys.

So I didn't give you a back-to-back chapter. Sorry. -sighs- I went malling with my friend Dominique last Saturday lol. That's why. & we didn't even do much, but at least we actually had fun!

BTW: Today's chapter is in Cato's POV, to add fun in Peeta's interview. ;D

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

What. The. Hell.

Clove looks at me with a smirk on her face. "Oooh, I see we got a Loverboy here in the Games. _Interesting." _

I know Clove very well. She was my childhood friend, when I first arrived in Two. She was a sadist, and admittedly, more than I'll ever be. She loves the Games and she loves the killing. But most of all, she loves _the twists. _

I smirk, trying not to give away any sign of emotion. "He'll die first," I assure her.

Outside, my face is impassive, and it gives away no emotion at all. But inside, I am a raging fireball that grows into an inferno. _That fucking bitch. _How _dare _he announce that on live television! I'm definitely sure that he's doing all that I'm-So-In-Love-With-You shit for the sponsors. I definitely wouldn't care if it was some other girl, but unfortunately, Baker Bitch decided to play a card with Katniss. _My Katniss. _And only mine.

Baker Bitch's buzzer rings and he exits the stage, after Caesar says, "Good luck to you, Peeta Mellark, and I believe I speak for all of Panem when our hearts will go with you."

I grab the armrests of the chair, and try to stop myself from breaking Loverboy's neck when he passes by. I resist the urge to pull his hair and punch his fucking jaw. And the odds are definitely _not _in my favor, because Clove notices.

She smirks again. "Oooh, I see, Cato's a little jealous. Who is it? Is it District 12's female slum?" Clove snickers.

I grit my teeth and say, "Fuck _off_, Clove. He's going to steal all the sponsors. Now shut your mouth if you know what's good for you."

Clove rolls her eyes, but doesn't say anything. We get up to leave and follow Brutus and Enobaria. At the corner of my eye, I see Marvel and Glimmer sauntering over to us. Clove rolls her eyes again. She once said before, "I am going to kill those District One airheads and you will _not _stop me." When I asked her about it, she threw a knife an inch from my head. Clove must have gotten irritated at them (_again_).

Clove grabs my hand and starts walking even faster. I try not to slap her hand away on purpose. She isn't really throwing herself at me, ulike Glimmer, but the only girl who I want to touch me is Katniss. We surpass Brutus and Enobaria, and we are the first to reach the elevator. When our mentors and escort join us in the elevator, Clove immediately punches the number '2' and the 'Close' button. The doors slam in front of Marvel and Glimmer's faces. They're surprised looks make me smirk.

The elevator reached our level. I stormed out, still furious at Loverboy's stupid interview. Somehow, I'm furious at myself, too. _Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. _I should've known. I should've known the way he looked at her, the way his face lit up when he talked to her. Should've known that there was a chance that I would get into this situation, and I was a fool to think that maybe, just _maybe, _things would actually be alright.

I storm to my room and slam the door. It shuts with a loud bang. I hear Clove shouting obscenties at me from outside, but she doesn't dare open my door. She learned her lesson the last time, when she caught me doing _my thing _in the room. Which means that she's officially scarred for life, after seeing me with my pants down in my room.

It was so fucking awkward.

They eat dinner without me. Not like I care. Having no dinner isn't as bad as what they do to us back in District 2, when we train. When we don't do as I say, or when we fail in a game, we don't get dinner. At all. My sister always complained when I go home with an empty stomach. I think she worries for me. She doesn't train, after all. But I always remind her that I have to do this to keep her going.

My mother died when I was young. Katniss' mothere tried to save her, she really did. But it was too later. In a matter of days, my sister and I were shipped off to District 2 to live with our father. I promised Katniss, then. I promised that I would never lose contact with her, and that I'll come back.

It was a promise that I didn't keep.

My sister cried for days. She cried because our father, due to stress, wasn't treating us right. He treated us like slaves, and did not feed both of us for days. When she got sick, my father started letting us eat. We savored food, that day, like it was our savior. And it was. But every beautiful thing has a price. Having Katniss was the most perfect thing that happened to me, and it got taken away. Having food to eat-not only for me, but for my sister also-was our savior, and it comes with a generous cost.

The day we ate was the day my father enrolled me to train at Emerson's Training Academy.

She weeped a lot that day. _A lot. _And my father, ever the _bitch, _savored her sorrow and pain. My sister held me close like I was the only thing that kept her alive-in a way, maybe I was-and she cried in my chest. That was the first time I cried, too. I cried, thinking about what would happen to me. I cried, thinking how it would change me so much. I cried, thinking of what Katniss would think of me if she knew.

I didn't send her a letter, or came back to District 12. Just because I was scared of the things she would think-or know-and we wouldn't be the pair we used to be.

So I grew up. Muscles began forming, especially in my abdomen. I grew so much taller and bigger, and my stance changed, too. I became arrogant and overconfident, and that was what drove me into volunteering in the Games.

Volunteering was both a blessing and a curse.

If I didn't volunteer, then I wouldn't have to see her personally. I wouldn't have to have to meet her, or remember our past. But then, I would have seen her _live _on television, which is unbearable. Who would protect her in these Games? Baker Bitch? But what if he wasn't reaped? Then _who _would protect her?

Now, I had the last hours and days of my life to spend with Katniss. I would surely want to treasure ever last memory we would ever make, and surely, she would want that too, right?

But now, I had a duty. I have to protect her. I have to get her home, to get her home to Prim and her mother. To her home, her woods, her forest. That was where she belonged. Not here in these self-righteous Games. That is exactly what I will and must do. And I will kill _anyone_ who gets in my way.

Outside, the sounds of murmuring from the dining room has ceased. Chairs are pushed back, and plates are being clanged together. Then doors from the rooms across mine are being shut, then silence. Clove turns up the music in her room, which is loud and heavy metal. I choose this time to escape.

The door is silent when I shut the door. No one sees me, except the Avoxes outside, who stare at me with curiosity. I flash them an evil grin. They cower immediately, and I flash for the elevator. I do the same routine: punch the '13' button, then the 'close', and hum while the elevators go up. I dash towards the doors for the roof when the elevator doors open, but stop abruptly when I hear voices. One female.

_And one male. _

Oh great. It's Loverboy.

She's _talking _to him. Talking to the great Loverboy. The star-crossed lovers. Envy boils within me, but I don't dare step out in the open. Not yet, after all. No matter how much guilty it makes me feel inside, I shamelessly eavesdrop.

"I'm sorry I pushed you," Katniss says. "I'm sorry about your hand."

Peals of revenge slam into me. I grin sadistically, thinking, _She pushed him. Well, isn't that funny. _Before i can interrupt, Loverboy speaks.

He says, "It's alright. It will heal."

The silence between them is thick, and I wonder what Katniss is thinking. Will she leave? Not likely, she's not that kind of person. Will she diss him? Will she talk with him? My questions are soon answered, when she replies.

"I miss my sister."

My own sorrow must reflect the look on her face. Her voice cracks, which means she's close to tears. Of course she misses her sister. She's her family. But my real question is: Why doesn't she miss her father? Her father was her guiding light, the one who kept her strong when she couldn't be. He made her happy when that other kid-Gale, was it?-and I weren't there. Why wouldn't she mention him?

"Yeah, I miss my family, too." Loverboy must have siblings of his own.

Another weighty silence fills the air. I wish I had the guts to interrupt. To stroll in and pretend that I heard nothing. But why do I have a feeling that there's something n what either of them is going to say that's going to change everything?

"I just," Loverboy says, "don't want them to change me, you know? If I'm going to die, I want to be me." He pauses. "Does that make any sense?"

Yes, I think. Yes. Bread Bitch doesn't want the Games to change him. He doesn't want the Games to change the way he acts, or the way he looks at things. He doesn't want them to change him into something he's not: a monster. I want the same things. But it's too late for me. Training already changed me. They changed who I was, who I used to be. I can't avoid the monster anymore. I _am _the monster.

"Yeah," Katniss says. "I just can't afford to think like that."

Yeah, right. I know you, Kitty. I know you think about these kinds of things all the time. At least you used to.

Loverboy must've gotten up, because the next thing I know, he's almost halfway outside the door. But he calls back to Katniss one last time. "I'll see you tomorrow." Then he's going to the door, and I have no choice but to hide behind a wall-or is it a pillar?-to stop himself from seeing me. It works, and he heads straight to the elevator.

That's when I stroll in, casually putting my hands in the pockets of my pants. She sees me and smiles. "You were listening, weren't you?"

I give her that smile that had girls tripping over their own feet back in District Two. "You know me very well, Kit Kat."

"Oh, yeah. I know you're a very big eavesdropper," she jokes.

Well, it's true.

"Yeah, well." I shrug, trying to be oblivious to the fact that I was terribly jealous a while ago when she and Loverboy were still talking. "I had to see what _that _was about." I perch on top of the bench that she sits on.

She looks away. "The star-crossed lovers thing means nothing to me, Cato," she says softly. "I still love you."

I almost choke on my own saliva. She... _loves _me? How can she love me? I'm a monster, a horrible killing machine. I participate in these terrible Games just for the sake of entertainment, and my bloodlust. It was what I was trained to become. How can she fall in love with a monster like me?

"What do you see in me?" I quietly ask. "I'm nothing. I'm _no one. _I'm a pawn in their Games, a pawn in the Capitol's Games. Loverboy, at least, isn't a monster." _Yet, _I think.

Katniss takes my face in her hands and forces me to look at her. Her stormy gray eyes are calm and serene, and they make my face relax instantly. "Cato, you are _not _a monster. Maybe that's what you were trained to be, but that's not you. _This,_" she gestures to all of me, "is you. The way you act when you're with me... that's you." Katniss places a hand over my heart, feeling the rapid beating. I think, _I have never loved her more than now. _

Then she snorts. "And _Loverboy? _I think that's you."

I casually roll my eyes, trying to keep my cool. "Whatever. At least _I _didn't admit that I'm in love with the perfect girl on live television," I tease.

Katniss blushes. She looks so cute when she blushes. "Yeah, well..." She thinks about something for a while. "I think I'm brutally in love."

"Brutally in love?" I think over what she said. "I think that's a good title for our story."

She nods. "Yeah. A Cato and Katniss Film: Brutally In Love."

I grin. "Sounds good."

Katniss yawns suddenly. "Oh no, missy," I say, "You aren't falling asleep here. Again."

This time, she grins at me. "Oh, whatever. I should be heading back, though. If Haymitch finds me missing again, he'll freak." She casually rolls her eyes.

I laugh. "The Games are tomorrow. Get rest. And go to the Cornucopia _immediately _when the gong sounds. I'll find you." I give her a stern look, telling her through my eyes to take care.

She smiles. Then she stands on her tiptoes and gives me a quick peck on the cheek. The action takes me by surprise, and I quickly blush. She looks red-faced herself. But before I could react, she leaves with a simple, "Bye, Cato." She's gone before I know it, slipped inside the elevator doors.

I don't know how long I stand there, but I'm still entranced when I'm back on the second floor. Our floor. When I enter my room, Clove is there, looking angry and extremely pissed. "What have you been doing?" She snaps at me, and demands?

I don't think of saying anything, but it seems perfect when I say, "I think I fell brutally in love."


	13. Countdown

Hai.

I think this is a suckish chapter. And it's short. Sorry! I'll try to update tomorrow or Sunday. If not, then maybe next week.

BTW: I changed some details in this story.

Anyway. Review. :)

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

I wake to Cinna shaking me.

He looks somber and sad, but energetic and hopeful at the same time. I don't think he likes the particular idea of sending his _first _tribute out to the Games. I don't like the idea of going out there, too.

We walk in silence towards the room that the dull, gray room that holds my arena outfit, and hair accessories. I think one of them is called a dryer, and another is called a comb. Cinna picks the comb-or is it brush?-up and starts to run it through my hair.

"You know, Girl on Fire," he says to break the silence, "I always believed in you."

I feel the tears threatning to spill, but I hold them in. "You did?" I ask in a tiny voice.

He doesn't say anything at first, until, "From the very first minute you volunteered for your sister, I knew that you were different. You didn't volunteer out of pride; our of vengeance; or out of hate. You volunteered out of love. For your sister. There was a raging fire in your acts, and in your eyes." Cinna looks at me from the mirror that faces both of us. I see a few tears pooling in his eyes. "You are the Girl On Fire," he says.

A few tears escape my eyes, and I don't have the strength to brush them away. I'm sick of hiding weaknesses. I just want to be _me. _I remember what I thought a few days back. _There's no chance that I'm playing fair in these Games. _Cinna knew. He knew, somehow, from being the first volunteer of Twelve that I would not play fair. That I was different. He believes in me. That is my motivation now; it is what keeps me going.

Cinna finishes braiding my hair in the simple braid that my mother had done when I-or Prim, rather-was reaped. It runs along my back, brushing my spinal cord. I say, "I'm scared, Cinna. What do I do? I don't want them to change me in there."

I understood what Peeta had said perfectly the day before. He didn't want them to change him into something he's _not, _he didn't want them to change him into a monster. And frankly, I didn't want them to change him, too. He is probably one of the only innocent people in Panem, the only boy who means good and _does _good, despite the bad things happening. We need The Boy With The Bread.

Cinna says, "You can do this. You're the Girl On Fire. Everyone believes in you." Cinna rolls his eyes. "Even _Haymitch." _

I stare at him through the mirror in shock. "_Haymitch? _No, that's impossible! He totally hates me. And I can't stand him." I roll my eyes this time.

Cinna chuckles and shakes his head. "That's because you're both the same," he says with a small smile.

Cinna helps me with the arena suit. He says, "This jacket is supposed to help you with whatever torturing climate they put in the Games. But it probably won't help, much, if the temperature is too cold. You have to take it."

I nod my head furiously, and I take a deep breath. I fear for myself, Peeta, and Cato. Even little Rue, who doesn't deserve to be in these Games. None of us do, anyway.

A speaker at two corners of the room is suddenly consumed by a robotic voice. "Victor of District 12, Haymitch Abernathy, would like to speak with the female tribute, Katniss Everdeen."

The voice is cryptic and creepy. Cinna nods and exits the room after fixing my jacket. The doors slide automatically once the sensors are able to detect him. Almost immediately, the doors slide open again, and in comes Haymitch. He is wearing a black shirt, a blue vest, and white jeans. He looks clean, for a change.

He grabs me gently by the shoulders, and looks me dead straight in the eyes. Haymitch says, "Listen to me. Go by the plan you and Cato have planned. Find water, after. Find food. Use that silly bow of yours." The faintest brief of a smile is placed on his face, then he turns serious again. "Be safe."

The speakers rumble again. "30 seconds," came the robotic voice.

Haymitch looks at me, and he reflects the own dread displayed on my face. He says, "You better go now, Katniss."

I smile at him, and head towards the long tube that brings me up to the Cornucopia. I'm halfway to the cylindrical tube, when Haymitch hesitantly calls my name. He says, "Sweetheart."

I whirl around, surprised. He hesitates, but then he says, "Do not go gentle."

I am confused. _Do not go gentle? _What does that mean? Does he know that I'm not a contender in these Games? Did Cinna tell him? "What do you mean?" I ask. "How do I _not _go gentle?"

He reaches into his left pant pockets, and gets a gold item out. The gold flickers in the lights, and I see what it really is: my Mockingjay pin. Haymitch heads towards me and puts the pin on my shirt, concealing it with my black jacket. He puts his pointer finger to his lips, making a 'shh' motion. But what he says next surprises me.

"Be the Mockingjay."

Haymitch gives me a short hug, then good-naturedly shoves me towards the cylindrical tube, just as the speakers say, "5 seconds." I step in the glass tube, and suddenly, it pummels upwards. I put my hands on the glass, and catch Haymitch's eyes. He nods a little bit, and that is the last thing I see before we are sent to the green grass of the deadly arena.

Beside me are Thresh and the boy from District Five, I think. They're gazes are both directed on the Cornucopia, which I know stands majestically in the middle of the green field. The woods are just across the Cornucopia, and another wheat field behind us. The tiniest blue appears somewhere in the forest, and I know that there is a lake somewhere.

Across me is Peeta. He catches my eye, and tries to mouth, _'No'. _But I shake my head. I tell him, "Run." He nods, reluctantly, and faces the other tributes.

He has to run. He will.

Cato is in front of me. On the other side of the Cornucopia.

Clove is two tributes away from him.

Glimmer is beside Peeta.

Marvel is beside the boy from Five. Two tributes away from me.

Cato catches my eye, and he flitts his eyes to the quiver of tempting bows and arrows, and back to me. He tells me to get them, before Glimmer does. I nod my head, telling him that I understood. He nods, and looks over to Clove.

Everyone jumps when a deeper, scarier voice rings out in the arena-much scarier than the previous one in the gray room. The voice is counting. Backwards. It is starting, then.

_30..._

_29..._

_28..._

Get to the arrows. Get to the bow and arrows.

_27..._

_26..._

_25..._

Find water.

_24..._

_23..._

_22..._

Be careful.

_21..._

_20..._

_19..._

Don't anger the Careers.

_18..._

_17..._

_16..._

Don't let Marvel get to you.

_15..._

_14..._

_13..._

Run, Peeta. Run.

_12... _

_11..._

_10..._

Cato, please be safe.

_9..._

_8..._

_7..._

I love you.

_6..._

_5..._

_4..._

Prim, take care.

_3..._

_2..._

"Be the Mockingjay."

_1..._

Run.

* * *

A/N: I have a single request. It's a choice, really.

Review.

Or.

Run.


	14. The Bloodbath & The Hunt

School was suspended today and I am SOOO HAPPY! NO SCHOOL FOR TODAY! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY i can tweet all i want! 3

Unfortunately, i seem to be addicted to the replay button of Brokenhearted. AHHHH. this song is so amazing and fab and all that but i can't stop pressing the replay button! i swear this song will be the death of me (aside from Josh Hutcherson & Alexander Ludwig).

so here's a new chapter :3

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

When my father died, the barrier between life and death was a bow, and quivers of arrow. It was my saving grace.

I have the same situation now.

Time seems to pass in slow motion as I run towards the bounty. At the corner of my eye, I see a couple racing towards the woods already. But that doesn't stop me from running at my maximum speed to the bow and arrows.

Cato and Clove are already at the Cornucopia; Cato twirling a sword, and Clove, throwing knives at different tributes at the same time. Marvel had his hands on the spear just as my hands touches the bow.

I act on instinct, and also survival. My fingers act on its own accord as I notch the arrow in place, hook it on the bowstring, and let the arrow fly. It hits its target: the District Eight boy. I make a mental note to say a silent sorry to the fallen tributes. Because if I have to get home, if I have to get to Prim, this is necessary.

One by one, I see falling tributes, some with patches of blood on their backs, shirt, or heads. Clove, ever the sadist, likes to play with them. She would throw a knife first at their feet or shoulder, then through the back. It's sick, but there's nothing I can do about it. Not unless I want a knife through my chest.

Rue and Peeta are not in the bloodbath, so I assume that they have fleed already. The thought brings a smile on my face. I see the boy from Seven picking on a girl-the one from Three. My arrow buries its head in Seven's temple, and he slumps to the ground. The girl was unlucky, too. Marvel's spear hurls its way to her chest, and she, too, falls to the ground, dead.

Soon enough, the field is empty. Only six remains-Cato, Clove, Glimmer, Marvel, the girl from Four, and I-standing. The others are bodies. _Dead bodies, _I remind myself. I swallow the bile threatning to go up.

Cato wrinkles his nose and we gather in a circle. "Gross," he says.

Clove and Marvel had both triumphant and mocking grins on their faces. They were glad-weren't they?-for the killing. These Games were their pleasure, the pleasure that they must have been awaiting for their whole lives.

The Girl from Four had a broken expression on her face. Her bottom lip was trembling, and she looked like she was biting it so hard that it was going to bleed. She was fighting back tears.

But Glimmer, oh Glimmer, looked extremely _pissed. _

"What the _hell!_" she shrieked. Oh dear God, was she throwing a tantrum in the Games? "What is this?" she yelled.

Clove rolled her eyes. "What is your _problem, _Sparkle?" she growled.

Glimmer snapped. She turned on Clove, grounding the heels of her shoes on the ground. Boy, was she pissed. "My problem is, _Clover, _that I never killed a single tribute in this stupid bloodbath!" she yelled in Clove's face.

Clove merely rolled her eyes again. But before she could retort, the girl from Four surprisingly cut through the conversation.

"You think that's bad?" The girl deliberately stood before Clove, blocking her view from Glimmer. Clove looked like she wanted to castrate the girl with the knife she was holding. Glimmer looked like she could strangle the girl barehandedly.

The girl said, "My district partner got murdered by that _thing _over there!" she screamed, pointing to Marvel, who smirked.

"Please, Tamara," Marvel said, "Trevor couldn't survive the initial bloodbath. If I hadn't killed him, someone else would." He snorted. "Maybe that guy from Eleven, who ran away with the other spears," he snarled.

The four continued to bicker-Glimmer about not killing anyone, Clove about not killing Glimmer, Tamara about her dead tribute partner, and Marvel about killing Tamara's tribute partner-while Cato and I watched. Our faces were the only ones that remained impassive.

By just a nod of his head, we both scouted the perimeter of the Cornucopia and the entire field. He was looking for more weapons, and I was looking for supplies. Ropes, matches, plastic, food, you name it. The others were screaming now, on the top of their lungs, and I was getting annoyed.

I approached the bickering group and yelled, "What the hell is your problem? For Prim's sake, District Twelve can hear you from here! Now you better suck your problems up, or I'm going to make you!"

The four immediately stopped. Glimmer was looking red-faced, Tamara still sad, Marvel looking bored, and Clove just plain angry. Since when was she ever _not _angry? I marched back to my spot and began getting all the backpacks.

Marvel and Glimmer joined Cato, getting all the weapons they could handle-swords, spears, knives, quivers of arrows, and a mace. Clove and Tamara joined me-gathering all the backpacks that we could carry and marched off to the others.

In the end, when we divided all the backpacks and weapons, I had a backpack, two packs of arrows, and two bows. Both were silver, and beautiful. It was decided that Tamara would have two big backpacks, since she couldn't handle a weapon that well. She silently agreed, still mourning.

Once we reached the woods, the Cornucopia literally fell downwards, taking most of the field with it. Then it appeared right up, like it never happened.

The others began chattering and talking, nonstop. Clove or Cato would throw the occassional sarcastic remark, and Glimmer would always flutter her eyelashes and coo at whatever... _charming _remark Cato says. And he would good-naturedly shove her to the nearest tree.

"Honestly, Glim," Marvel said, "Why do you like Cato? Is it because you want more money from this hunk?" Marvel slapped Cato's back, hard.

Glimmer put a hand over her chest. "Of course not! Do you forget, Marv, that my family is among the richest in our district?" She faced the others. "My parents are both _entrepreneurs, _and they named me after the company name they own!" She smiled enthustiastically at them.

Clove snorted. "No kidding. Is your middle name Sparkle or Twinkle? Or maybe, is it Assface?"

All of them burst into laughter-except Glimmer of course. She was looking angry again, though this time, I doubt she would burst. And I was right. She contained her anger, and smiled at Clove innocently.

"Oh, Clove, don't you dare get on my bad side if you want a knife through your chest," she said tauntingly.

"_Sure, _Glim. But you forget that I have all the knives. And your precious little bow is with Katnus over here," Clove said.

I rolled my eyes. "Kat_niss,_" I hiss.

"Kat_nus," _Clove emphasizes.

"Niss," I say.

"Nus."

"Niss."

"Nus."

"Niss."

"Cato!" Clove burst out.

Cato was laughing. His face was already red. "Oh, this is just great," he smirks. "Girl on Fire meets Knife Ninja."

Clove and I simultaneously rolls our eyes, and she turns to me. "Cato is such a douchebag sometimes," she says.

"Most of the time," I agree.

"I am just here, you know," Cato says, waving his arms around. He looks like the boy I met years ago-so young and carefree, and I smile, happy to bring this side of him out once more.

"No shit, Captain Obvious," Marvel says.

We continue walking, trudging in the woods. And soon enough, night falls. The dark makes it harder to see, but the others insist on walking forward. They do not want to stop, nor rest.

"Why?" I hear Tamara ask. "What are we waiting for?"

Cato gives a grin, a huge, sadistic grin, and says, "Tributes."

And the hunt for the tributes began.


	15. Hunting, Guarding, Rue

I just want to offer this author's note for nothing, but YOU.

Thank YOU, dear..

-reader

-person who put this story on his/her alert

-person who put this story on his/her favorites

-reviewer

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!

And don't you forget it :)

So for YOU, i'll try to make this chapter long (er).

BTW: This chapter is in third person's POV

BTWA: Some things in this chapter might not make sense. Or it may go out of topic. Sorry. I just dk what i'm writing sometimes, when I'm totes crazy. HA HA HA.

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. **

Katniss was pissed.

No, scratch that.

She was _eternally _pissed.

Glimmer had talked non-stop for the past few hours about her home, and everything about her. Her make-up, her body guards, even the clothes she wears! She wouldn't-and probably couldn't-shut up.

And Katniss was sick of it.

It was bad enough that Glimmer was rich, pretty and perfect. What was bad was that she had to _rub it in _her fellow Careers' faces. The others had already stopped throwing in the occassional sarcastic and snidy remark, and the two boys had already tuned out her bragging. Clove, however, held in her retorts, too tired to fire them at Glimmer. Katniss just held her tongue, not wanting to get on the bad side of the prettier girl. So she just sucked it up.

Cato was tired of Glimmer's bragging. But he did not rest, in fear that he would face too many tributes the following day. So he told Marvel to lead with Clove, followed by Glimmer and Tamara, with him and Katniss trailing behind

_Katniss. _The girl beside him made his heart jump just at the thought of her. No one knew-except Clove-about his secret relationship with Katniss. She might have told Haymitch, but the drunk was bound to forget. Hopefully.

Cato hated that he couldn't talk to her. It would be far more awkward and suspicious to the others. Especially Glimmer, since everyone thinks that it was she that he loved. But in his heart he knew that he could never love anyone but Katniss.

"I once had this pet horse that my parents gave me. I named her Jewel, and my parents gave me and my sister-Lydia-horseback riding lessons. Once, we were going down the hill with Jewel, and..." Glimmer's rattle trailed off.

Cato looked at Katniss. She was beautiful, even if he could hardly see her. He could barely make out her brown, silky hair, and her perfect body. But, in the dark night, he could see the glint she held in her stormy, silver eyes.

Eyes that reflected fire.

He could see the fire in them, the fire that made him fall in love with her in the first place. The fire that made him think that she was different. The fire that helped him recognize her when she arrived at the Capitol. Katniss faced him, and when he looked in her eyes, he saw that the fire was moving.

Cato shook his head. _Moving? _

Up ahead, there was a trickle of smoke blazing upwards. And past them, light illuminating the darkness that surrounds the entire forest. The faintest smell of smoke filled the air, and everyone was suddenly alert of the campfire.

_Stupid, _Katniss thought. _Stupid tribute. _What she would give to smack that tribute at the back of his or her head, to teach him or her a lesson. What kind of idiot would do that in the Games? Say it was cold and the jacket didn't help that much. Say that you're freezing and you needed fire. Then what you do is wrap your arms around yourself and deal with it! Because creating a fire in the middle of the arena puts you in the same situation as shouting 'Come get me!'

Katniss sighed, as Cato put a finger up to his mouth. He had a devilish grin on his face, and the others knew what he was doing. Cato whispered quietly, "Follow me."

He took Katniss' hand, not caring what the others would think since they couldn't make any noise or they would scare the tribute away. Cato had his sword, but he got the extra knife he kept in his belt. Silently, they tip-toed towards the tribute.

It turns out that the silence was not needed. The tribute-the girl from Eight-was asleep, oblivious to the fact that there were six Careers surrounding her, forming a circle around the camp fire.

Katniss watched as Cato got out _another _knife from his belt, and began rubbing them against each other. Metal screeched against metal, and the girl awoke. Instantly, she was frightened and scared. Yet, she begged for her life.

"No, please! Please! I beg you! No, no, no!"

I felt pity for this girl, for she was another pawn in these Games. But sadly, she cannot be spared unless I want to go home to Prim. I try to think of other ways to distract myself from witnessing this girl's death, but I scold myself for it. _If she is another pawn in these stupid Games, then I will force myself to grit my teeth and watch, because she deserves someone to watch her death, _I think.

Her desperate pleas were useless to Cato. He handed a knife to Glimmer, who stabbed the girl tribute in the chest. Cato threw another knife to her head, and the tribute slumped to the ground. A cannon boomed, signaling her death.

They were laughing. Cato and Glimmer laughing. Oh, and look! So was Clove and Marvel. Glimmer sauntered off to Cato, blocking Katniss from his view. She put her hand on his bicep, and handed him the knife.

"Oh, Cato," she purred, "We should do this more, sometime." She batted her annoyingly perfect eyelashes at him.

Cato snorted. "Yeah, 'cept next time, you're the prey, and I'm the predator."

Clove had to hold back her laughter from the snarky comment, and Tamara and Marvel had equally matching smirks on their faces. Glimmer had gotten red in the face _again, _and Katniss had to suppress the smirk herself.

Glimmer took out the embarrassment from her face, and gave a small smile. But Katniss knew it was more of a please-take-the-spotlight-away-from-me smile.

"Yeah, well, I'd do anything for you, baby," Glimmer said. She made a calling gesture with her hand. "Just call me." She winked at Cato seductively.

Cato rolled his eyes and Clove scoffed. "Please, Glimmer," Clove said, "All the calling you need is for God, before you get dragged down to hell."

Marvel was snorting peals of laughter down his throat. Glimmer had gone red again, but this time from anger, not embarrassment. She was pissed now at Clove, for taunting her. _Why oh why did she have to get stuck with the Bitch Queen? _Glimmer thought.

She smirked. "Please, Clove, don't make me regret not killing you in the Bloodbath. It would at least have scored me a point for taking you off," Glimmer pointed out.

Clove snorted. "Glimmer, everyone knows that _I _can take you down in less than five seconds. But you couldn't shoot an arrow even if your life depended on it. I bet even Fire Girl here," Clove said, gesturing towards Katniss, who snarled at her, "could take you down, hands down, girly."

Everyone cracked up at this-except Glimmer, obviously. Cato chuckled with Katniss, and Glimmer watched enviously. The jealous look on Glimmer's face made Clove crack up even more. She knew that Cato was terribly in love with the girl from Twelve, and that she loved him back. And Glimmer was so envious of their relationship, it would take the Ice Queen a knife in the heart for her to give up falling for Mr. Cutie (known as Cato). And the brute (also known as Cato) obviously has no interest in Glimmer.

"Okay, guys. Let's hit the sack and save our energy for tomorrow. We continue hunting tomorrow."

At first, Katniss thinks that he means hunting for food, and she is glad. But then she realizes he means hunting for tributes, and she gets a sinking feeling in her stomach. She doesn't want to contribute in the killing anymore, but she has to, since she's in the Career pack. And seeing Cato's pleasure in killing the girl from Eight? It has never terrified her more than ever in her existence.

Clove nodded. "Third watch is Tamara and Glimmer, Marv and I on second watch, Cato and Katniss on first watch. Which means, now," Clove said.

"I think _I _should be first watch with Cato instead of Fire Girl," she objected.

"Jeez, Glimmer. It's _just _pairings. There's no harm in doing it." Clove turned her back to Glimmer and threw a secretive wink to Katniss and Cato. Katniss guessed that Clove knew about Cato's relationship with her, and she's going to have to talk to him about it.

They decided to settle down by a grassy part of the forest. The grass was soft, and the others decided that it would at least be comfortable resting there temporarily. They collapsed with their bags still on their backs, some thirsty, some exhausted. The Careers drank the water, gulp after gulp, and put up their tents. The three of them-Clove, Marvel, Tamara-climbed in after drinking water. Glimmer, however, decided on asking a sponsor for nail polish.

"Please?" Glimmer asked. "I'd like a hot pink nail polish please. I _promise _I won't mess it up!"

Katniss looked over at Cato, who was struggling not to laugh. He rolled his eyes at Glimmer's _fantastic _girly personality. But despite Cato's silent disapproval of Glimmer's actions, a parachute rained down on them from above, making a short signal. Glimmer's face lit up with delight as she grabbed the parachute and ripped it open, exposing pink nail polish in a bottle, and a dull paper note. Glimmer squealed as she read the note, and entered her tent. Her silouette is slightly noticeable.

The hour goes on quickly. I barely notice time passing by because of the ever-so-hyperactive forest. Even at night, little animals pass by. It rustles a leaf, steps on a branch, or even scratches the tree's bark. I enjoy hearing these noises, it reminds me of the home that used to be mine. Used to be, since there's still a chance that I won't make it back home. Or make it back to my sister.

Two wide eyes suddenly appear in the dark. They look at me with a waning curiosity. I smile, thinking that that must be the animal making all those noises. But then I bolt up, realization striking me hard. Those are no animal eyes. Those eyes are Rue's.

"What did you see?" I jolt in surprise from the curious voice addressed to me. Cato. I forgot he was actually here. I whirled around to find him still perched under the tree he was in earlier. I can see his bright blue eyes staring at me. "Well?"

I gulp. Should I tell him? Should I not? "N-nothing," I stammer. I know that only a gullible person would believe this, but I decide that I do not care. After all, what he doesn't know won't kill him, right?

Cato's eyes narrow in suspicion. He is tense, knowing that I am steering things away from him. "Cut the crap, Katniss, tell me now. You know that I'm doing this for you, right? Keeping you away from danger."

I look at the other tents alarmingly and search each one. Neither has a light on, but I strongly suspect that someone might be eavesdropping. "Shut _up, _Cato! Someone might hear you!"

Cato brushed away my alarmingness. He only said, "Calm down. _You _will wake them up. Now tell me what you saw."

I sigh. His stuborness infuriates me, but I keep my temper from flaring. I don't want to be angry at him. "Nothing, Cato, just chill. I just thought I saw a rodent, and I thought about snaring it for breakfast." The lie rolls out of me smoothly, and I smile discreetly.

Cato rolls his eyes. "You are such a bad liar, Kit Kat."

Not so smoothly as I thought.

Well, it was worth a try. I try to act oblivious to the fact that he doesn't believe me, and try to be dismissive. "Relax, Cato. You're the one who says I need to calm down. Teach what you preach," I say nonchalantly.

"Besides, you're so worked up about these stuff that you always have a temper," I continue.

"I'm always so worked up because I'm worried about your _freaking _safety Katniss!" Cato is standing up now, obviously furious.

Great. I just sparked an argument.

"Well I can handle myself, thank you very much."

Cato punches the tree he was sitting by earlier, and I flinch. The tree sways, and I can bet that his hand is bleeding and sore now. Boy, does his temper flare pretty fast. "I don't care if you can handle yourself! I still can't bear the thought of you _dying _in another tribute's hands! What's the point of it, then, huh? What's the point of me loving you-you loving me-if I can't be there when you need me?"

I stay silent. Cato has never opened himself up like this to me before; this is the first time. I can truly see how me dying would cut deep through him. It would kill him, kill his nature, kill the Cato I know, and cut through his heart like a wrenching sword. Dying, myself, would make him nothing.

And that is what he is trying to tell me.

Cato turns his back to me, and I reach for him. Once my hand comes in contact with his shoulder, he flinches and turns around. He is not crying, and I am glad.

"Just go," he says, his voice oddly cold, different from the kind, worried tone before. I stand there, dumbstruck on how different personalities he can change, and wonder which one I truly know.

Cato gets a knife from his belt and pushes me to the nearest tree. The knife is at my neck know, and I feel fear. "Just go!" he yells in my face.

And I do what he says.

I wrench away from Cato-my probably savior, my one true love and companion-and head towards the place where I saw Rue with only my bow and arrows. I run, tree after tree, farther away from the Career's campsite. As I flee, I feel tears streaming down my cheeks. But I don't stop, not a second, even to wipe my tears. They just come and they keep going until I reach the end of the forest.

It's beautiful out here. The Cornucopia is still intact and perfect in view, and the grass still feels soft. But looks can be decieving. I know that now.

There's a snap of a twig behind me, and I know it's Rue. I whirl around and find her half consoled in the tall trees, the darkness helping her. But the faint outline of her figure can still be seen by my hunter's eyes, and I know it is her immediately.

"Rue?" I call out. I step towards her, careful not to alert her any more than she is now. "It's okay, I won't hurt you."

She hesitates, but takes a few tentative steps from the tree. Her puffy hair and wide eyes can be seen now. "Why were you with them?" she asks in a soft voice.

I sigh. "It's a long story, but I wouldn't mind if I would share it with you." I can almost feel Prim smile at my words.

Rue smiles herself, curiosity getting the best of her. "Y-you won't hurt me?"

I smile. "No, I wouldn't mind a pet myself."

"You want me as an ally?" The curiosity is unmistakable.

I shrug, nonchalantly. "Sure, why not? You're small, sneaky, and you can survive just fine. You can use your slingshot," I say, gesturing towards the small, wooden weapon held in her tiny hand.

She looks at her weapon warily. She looked like she was about to but in, but I beat her to it.

"Well, I am so _beat _today, so why don't we just go sleep for a while? You can climb right?"

I knew what was coming before she said it. Rue nodded, her face somehow smiling, despite the grave situation.

So we climbed a tree and camped in. And I wanted nothing more than to snuggle up close to a girl my sister's age and pretend it is her.

* * *

A/N: I didn't really mean for her to leave Cato. LOL, my fingers were typing on their own accord. HAHA. i actually planned for them to kiss but... NAH.

anyway, i think i'm the only user on Earth/Panem/Hogwarts/Lorie/Narnia/Whatever who doesn't have a beta. damn.

hey guys can i ask a favor? can you get me to at least 100 reviews? please? it would mean a lot :3


	16. Finding Katniss

Hai guys. :) This chapter is in Cato's POV. Hope you don't mind :D

I'll try to be getting more on Marvel, as requested by a reviewer. :)

Don't forget to review and follow this story :)

Oh, and this chapter is for soccerstar4242, since she's my beta now. c:

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

_What the shit was I thinking?_

Sending her off running like that? Scaring the _shit _out of her? Screw this! I knew I didn't mean it, I knew that I didn't mean to make her run. So why the _hell _did I say it? _Stupid, _I chant in my head. _Stupid, stupid, stupid. _She's long gone by now. And who knows where she could be? At least I haven't heard the cannon yet, which means she's still alive and safe.

_No, _I correct myself. _No. _As long as she's in the arena, she's not safe.

I punch the tree a second time. _What is wrong with me? _I think.

Ignoring the throbbing pain in my hand, I stomp off to get Marvel.

"Marv!" I growl his name as I approach his tent. Not a sound was made from inside. I grab the zipper and pull it down, exposing a half naked, _snoring, _Marvel.

"Get up you douche!" I yell at him. Marvel stirs, but does not obey. I roll my eyes, grabbing his hair. He jolts awake and mutters obscenities under his breath. He hits my hand, making me drop my hold on his hair.

"What the hell is your problem?" grumpy Marv says.

"Katniss left. I need you to stay guard while I look for her," I say. "And by the way, I actually tried to wake you up in a _nicer _way. But somebody decided to turn into a granny overnight."

Marvel scowled. But a smirk overtook his face, minutes later. By the look he's giving me, I don't think that this will turn out too well.

"You like her, don't you?"

Busted.

Still, I don't give away my emotions easily. I put a mask, not giving away any sort of emotion, and say, "What are you talking about? Like who?"

Marvel rolls his eyes. "Don't play oblivious with me, Cato. I see the way you look at her. Only someone as dumb as Glimmer won't see that." He rolls his eyes again.

I chortle. "Aren't you supposed to like her? Considering she's from your district and all that?" I say, desperate to change the topic.

Marvel rolled his eyes _at me. At me. _"Trying to switch the topic, eh, Cato? Nice try. But no, just 'cause we're from the same district, it doesn't mean I have to like her. I _don't. _She's crazy. All she can talk about is herself. That girl needs to fucking shut up!" Marvell yells, exasperated.

I laugh a strangled laugh. Marvel smiles a smirky smile. "That's my Marv," I say, smirking as well.

"Don't change the topic again," he reminds me. As if I need to be reminded. "So, you love her, don't you?"

I clear my throat and shift my feet, uncomfortablly. "Don't really know what you're talking about."

Marvel's smirk grows wider. "Oh! Is the almight Cato uncomfortable?" he sneers.

"Shut the hell up, Marv. You don't know what you're talking about." I scowl at him.

"Really? I'm not as stupid as you think. Just because I'm from One, it doesn't mean I'm an airhead goon like Glimmer."

"Actually, Glimmer's just a dumb blonde," I correct him.

He rolls his eyes.

He continues, "I know you love her because the way you look at her reminds the way I look at-" Marvel coughs, clearly nervous.

"Clove," he says softly.

I cough on the snort I was about to release. _Clove?! The exact same CLOVE I know? _"Holy shit man! Clove?! As in Clove my dist-!" I was cut off by a large hand covering my mouth.

I act on reflex as I elbow Marvel in the face and kick his stomach. Yeouch. That's gotta hurt bad.

Marvel coughs on the ground, wheezing. I guess I kicked his stomach a tad bit _too _hard. And like the bitch I am, I try not to laugh at loud, sparing him from humiliation. "You okay, man?" I say through gritted teeth.

"Yeah." He wheezes. "Remind me not to lunge for you again."

"Sorry, man," I offer. "Total reflex action."

He coughs again, and I wonder how he hasn't coughed up blood or vomited yet. He must've had worse in their training in One. "Yeah, whatever." He takes a deep breath, and stands up. "And yeah, Clove. She's _hot, _man!"

"If you ever hurt her, I swear I'll rip you in two," I growl at him. Though I love Katniss, I love Clover too, as a sister. She's practically family.

"Save it, Two, I know all about your she's-practically-my-sister relationship."

I roll my eyes. He's just jealous. "Whatever." I clear my throat. "_Anyway, _can you keep guard for a few? I really need to find Katniss."

Marvel nods relucantly and slowly. He turns away and leans on the tree that I punched. I grab my sword and a huge backpack, in case Katniss is injured when I find her. The bag is heavy, and I sigh, lazy to carry anything. But I lift the bag on my shoulders anyway. I walk to the direction I remembered her run into, and head that way.

I think I'm crazy, but I think I hear Marvel's faint whisper, carried by the wind.

_"Go get her, Lover Boy," _he says.

Don't worry, Marvel. I will find her.

And when I do?

She's mine.

* * *

A/N: I DON'T OFFEND BLONDES OKAY IN THIS STORY. In fact, Jennifer Lawrence is a blonde and also Teresa Palmer and THEY'RE FREAKING AWESOME AS HELL! :3

Holy crap i. got. 107. reviews. like. SQUEALS! thank you so much guys :'3 WEEPS WEEPS WEEPS :3

AND HAHAHAHA you might see in the reviews page this anon whose name is "nigga" or "nigga its meeeeeeeeee" that's actually my best friend Geneve. LET'S GIVE A WHOLE LOT OF APPLAUSE FOR GENEVE SHALL WE?

Anyway, this chapter is short but haha. :) idk, i'll be getting more on Katniss (probably) in the next chapter. cross your fingers that it's good and long! (omg SOUNDS WRONG! wtf is wrong with me)


	17. Dodging Fireballs

A/N: Hey. Waddap? So I'm updating early cause SCHOOL IS SUSPENDED AGAIN AND this week we only had school ONCE! ONCE I TELL YOU! sigh, i love this.

but still, the rain is kind of pissing me off. my internet is kind of wavering.

Me: INTERNET, LET ME LOVE YOU!

Internet: NO. f' off!

Internet is now offline.

Me: Asshat.

Okay, enough of that. here's the chapter and it's in Katniss's POV :) 'Cause i don't think i do good in Cato's. Haha.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.

When I wake up, I feel the empty space in the tree trunk beside me. Rue is gone, but I'm still belted in, bow and arrows clutched in my fist.

I hop down, gathering my weapons in my backpack, and go in search for Rue. She has to be nearby; she wouldn't be foolish enough to look for food, probably, too far.

I scout the area a few meters away from the tree we were resting in. But Rue is not in sight. "Rue?" I call in a hushed tone. There is not a rustle in these woods, only the occasional chirp of a bird. "Rue, are you there?" I'm starting to get worried for her, and am running by the time I spot a flash of dark hair.

"Rue!" I half whisper, and half yell. "Where have you been?" I gripped her shoulders, fear showing in her eyes. Fear? "I've been worried! What happened to y-" I'm cut short by loud footsteps. Rue's face shows what I've already suspected.

The Careers.

I whisper in her ear, "Run. Find a tree. Go!"

She hesitates, but does what I say. Her hands are full of small, dark blue objects. Berries? She found breakfast? Rue scurries away, and I follow close, looking behind me if they're still following us. Unfortunately, they are.

I catch up to Rue and point her to scale a tree on her right. It's big and sturdy, also having branches full of leaves that might provide camouflage for us. She climbs the tree flawlessly, and I'm hot on her heels.

We're about fifty feet in the air when we see them from the foliage. Clove, Marvel, Glimmer, and Tamara. But where's Cato? Shouldn't he be here with them? I look at Glimmer's face and see that she's in a very pouty mood.

"Great," Clove growls. "Now we have to find Cato and Katniss. Marv, why the hell did you let them go?"

Marvel scoffs. "I didn't let Fire Girl go in the first place. Cato woke me up and said that he was going to look for her. And he really looked like he would kill me if I tried to stop him."

So he left to look for me? I look at Rue, and see that she has a confused expression on her face. I shake my head, meaning to say, I'll explain later. Not now. She nods, understanding my silent message.

Glimmer's pout grows uglier. "So you let him go? You should've just woken me up!" She is screaming on full force now. "I might have actually convinced him to just stay!"

And that's when Clove bursts in anger.

If Glimmer was yelling, then Clove is shouting her head off.

"Shut the fuck up Glimmer before I slice your mouth off you! You only want Cato so you could be his whore! Well tell you what, Sparkles? He doesn't need you!" Her face is red from yelling obscenities.

The two continue to bicker, with Marvel slightly groaning from the fight. He makes no effort to stop them, though. Instead, he gives a smirk or laugh whenever one of them gives a good comeback.

I don't dare show my face down there. I'd rather not risk my face meeting Clove's knives, or Marvel's spears heading towards my chest. Or worse: Glimmer's screechy, terrible voice in my ear.

Eventually, the trio-consisting of two angry madwomen and one crazy laughingstock-leaves the vicinity of our tree. I scale the tree downwards first, in case someone lunges at one of us. It would be safer if I go down first, rather than Rue, since I have a weapon.

No one is around the area anymore, so I signal for Rue to go down. "It's safe now," I call to her.

She slowly goes down while I check the area to really make sure that no one would attack us while we're distracted. By the time she goes down, she has dirt on her hands and elbows, but otherwise, unharmed.

"You alright?" I ask her softly.

Rue smiles and nods. She places the berries in my hand, and I reach in the backpack for a plastic container to store the food. "I think we should make a bird call, just in case," she tells me.

When I think about it, it's not actually a bad idea. It's useful. "What do you have in mind?" I ask her.

She pauses, then lets out a soft but rich, beautiful four-note tune. Hopefully, the Careers are long gone from our area. "It was our signal when we work in the orchards back home," she tells me. "But I don't want to use that. I want to use something that we made." Her face lights up.

I laugh. "You like music?"

She nods furiously. "I love music! It keeps everyone happy back home."

I smile at her, and whistle another four-note tune that my father taught me. Back home, I hope Gale recognizes this one, because we used to pass this to each other a lot. "A Mockingjay's tune," I tell Rue with a wink.

She giggles. "Just like your pin," she points out.

We walk in the direction the Careers came from, because there is no way they'd find us. Not unless they head back, which I hope they don't.

Rue ends up talking most of the time about her home. Her family. Her job. Turns out she's the oldest among her six siblings. "Some of them can really be a drag, but I don't mind," she says with a smile. In District Eleven, they're all required to help in whatever job they do in the fields. Rue gets the picking. She says Thresh, the male tribute from their district, is the one who carries all the heavy stuff, and assists other people.

We scavenge for food, and at one point, I reluctantly tell her to keep quiet for a while, so that neither of us would scare away game. She agrees, because she understands. We need food. A few berries won't keep us alive. Maybe a day, if we can suppress the hunger. But a week on berries? It won't be enough. Not for the two of us.

Later, I catch two unusual looking animals that Rue calls groosling. She says that they some people are lucky in Eleven when they catch them.

"We're going to have a feast tonight, Katniss!" she chirps gladly to me.

"Yeah, but we have to ration our food," I reply glumly. I bet it would be hard for both of us to stop ourselves in enjoying the food. I sigh.

Rue's face falls. But nevertheless, she tries to keep up with the cheery attitude. "We'll be fine, Katniss. As long as you have your bow and arrow, nothing can stop you." She smiles cheekily and giggles. I wonder how she can still be happy and hyperactive despite the horrible situation we're in. But for Rue's sake, I throw in a smile.

"As long as I have my bow and arrows, Little Duck," I gulp, swallowing back tears at the mention of my nickname for Prim, "I'll be keeping both of us alive." I give her a wink, and fight the tears threatning to appear.

Rue giggles again, and I lift her in the air, cradling her in my arms. She shrieks and I laugh, not caring if we're being seen or heard by another tribute. The Careers are long gone, anyway. Why not have some fun?

I set Rue down on her feet, and she smiles. "So, now that we have food, what are we going to do next?"

I smile at her. "Now, we're going to find Pee- Rue get down!"

I was a fool not to smell it. I was a fool not to see it. I was a fool to believe that just because the Careers are out of sight, it means that we're safe.

It was hard not to see a ball of fire heading our way.

Rue turned her head seconds too late. When she turns to look back at me, her eyes are full of dread and fear. And for a second, I see Prim in an arena outfit, standing right in front of me with a fireball shooting for her.

My first impulse is to protect.

And that's what I do.

So, the first thing I do is wrap my arms around Rue's waist and push her to the ground. She is out of harm; she is safe. She dodged the fireball, and is unharmed. The fire didn't touch her.

Instead, it hit me.

I scream in agony as the flames lick my left calf. My scream echoes in the arena, and I hear the birds flapping away as they fly, terrified by my sound of agony. Rue, beside me, looks terrified and guilty.

"Run, Rue!" I yell at her. I try to push her away, but end up stumbling on my good leg. I groan, knowing that we don't have enough time until the second fireball will appear. Despite my efforts to get her to go, Rue doesn't move. She stands before me, shocked.

"Go, Rue! I promise I'll be right behind you!" This sends her scurrying off in the forest. I try to follow close behind. I do. But my leg keeps me from catching up to her. At least she stays in my sight. At least I know where she's going.

I'm panting as I dodge more fireballs. I guess the term Girl on Fire is appropriate for me. Too appropriate. But there's nothing I can do, but curse those stupid Gamemakers and the tricks up on their sleeves.

My vision becomes cloudy-either from the smoke or the heat, I don't know. I'm suddenly having a hard time breathing, and black spots cloud my vision. I feel light-headed, like I'm on the verge of passing out. I wish the fire would just stop.

And after a while, they do. I've never loved air better than now. I see Rue making her way to the lake, and I run after her. My limbs feel like I am no longer in control of them, but I will myself to follow Rue's direction.

My mind barely registers the blue water when I see it. All I can do now is to collapse on the ground just before the lake. Rue's worried brown eyes appear before me, and I know she is shouting something in my face. But I cannot hear nor understand what she is saying. I can only feel my head turning towards the direction of the woods.

In them, there is a large figure running towards us. The bow I was barely clutching feels numb in my hand, and no matter how much I will myself to notch an arrow, it does not move. But I find myself in no need for the bow or the arrows. Because the figure in the woods?

It is Cato.

IMPORTANT A/N: I'm not sure which leg the fireball touched, okay. So if I made any errors on the leg that was scorched, I'm sorry. :-)

BTW: PLEASE VOTE ON MY POLL. PLEASE!


	18. PromiseS

A/N: I found a girl.

She's so perfect. Know what? She's so perfect, perfect enough for Josh Hutcherson and Alexander Ludwig. She's, like, the apple of their eyes, if you want those crazy romantic adjectives. In short, SHE. IS. PERFECT.

Weeping because I wish that girl is me.

Btw, my twitter goes unnoticed by both Josh and Xander. and i crey every single day because Xander RTs and mentions tons of people. plus, he tweets every single time when I'M NOT THERE. and i'd catch a grenade for him and even save him by giving him my liver. YES A LIVER TRANSPLANT BECAUSE I'M PATHETIC LIKE THAT.

hey.

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

"So, that's supposed to help her?"

I wake to a voice, and try to recognize the deep, male tone. I haven't bolted upright yet, which means my attackers probably think that I'm still asleep. I try to be as discreet as possible.

"Yup." A child's voice chides in and answers the man's question. A child? That's just sad. "After, maybe, a few hours, the medicine would've already taken effect. All that's left would probably be a scar. That's the Capitol's medicine to you," she says.

I then bolt upright without hesitation. Those are no attacker voices. Those are Rue and Cato.

_Cato._

"Sweet Jesus H Christ," Cato swears under his breath. I scowl at him, trying to secretly gesture that there is a twelve-year old child here. He doesn't pay any attention to my scowling face. Instead, he decides to lunge for me, grabbing my arm in a tight vice. I swallow the wince. "You're not leaving my sight. Ever."

I roll my eyes. "Well, if I'm mistaken please do tell me, I remember that night when you told me to leave."

"I didn't mean it," he says with a sad expression. I see Rue watching us at the corner of my eye, and make a mental note to explain later.

"Yeah, but that's not an excuse."

"I promise I won't do it again. I swear up and down, Kit Kat."

"Mmhmm."

"I'll change!"

"Keep telling yourself that."

Cato makes a frustrated sound, and Rue giggles. I have to fight back a smile myself. "You are just so stubborn," he mutters loudly.

"Fine." Cato looks her in the eye, and says, "I'm sorry, Katniss Everdeen. I promise I'll change, and I'll never do any bad shit to you ever again. Now, would you please forgive me?" He bats his eyelashes, which makes him look like... well, _Glimmer-like._

And because he looks Glimmer, I burst out laughing. Apparently, Rue found that appealingly funny too and laughed out loud.

"What?" Cato looks genuinely confused and nothing like the brutal boy that appears on television, which makes us both laugh harder.

"It's just that," I start, when I calm down, "you are so sincere. I am touched, honestly." I place a hand over my heart, trying to bat my eyelashes like he did earlier.

This time, Rue bursts in giggles and even Cato cracks a smile. Though, I note, not enough to show teeth. I don't think he will be doing much of that these next few days. Or weeks.

Then Cato has his serious, gruff face on. "But I'm serious, Katniss," he says pleadingly, using his terribly adorable eyes as a weapon. "You aren't leaving my sight, Kit Kat. Not even for a slightest nanosecond."

I roll my eyes nonchalantly. Like it's no big deal. But in the inside, my stomach is fluttering, because Cato just practically admitted that he's going to protect me or something. This can't just be an act, because it would take everything to break down a tough boy and get him to protect someone for a lower class district.

"I won't be going anywhere," I promise.

And I hope it's a promise that I can keep.

* * *

A/N: Short chapter. Sorry! :((((((( I just have limited time to do this.

But anyway, since the poll on my profile is not working, can you just answer my question? Okay, so WHEN DO YOU WANT THE REBELLION TO HAPPEN?

74th Hunger Games

Quarter Quell


	19. Author's Note I'M SARREH

I TOTALLY SUCK

Seriously.

OK, i know i haven't been updating for like TWO WEEKS. AND IT SUCKS! Cause I totally made my chapter LATE, and i sent it to my beta late. BUT, my beta's on vacation! so she can't do it ASAP.

It's not my beta's fault okay. It's my own.

And i'm so so sorry guys for not updating :'( i have another exam next week. -,- UGH.

ONCE AGAIN, I'M SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING! I'll try to update as soon as i can!


	20. Injured Again

A/N: I AM SO SO SORRY AGAIN FOR NOT UPDATING IN LIKE, CENTURIES! :(((( please forgive me? :(((((((

Favor: please tell me when you want the rebellion to occur, since i don't know when i should make it happen!

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

Just before we all stand up, both of my allies speak at the same time. "Your leg's going to be okay," Rue says brightly and cheerfully, just as Cato says, "Sucks to be you," with a glum and flat tone.

I scowl at my supposedly protector. "Your optimism is cheerful," I snap at him. I turn to Rue. "Don't worry, he's not going to be an ass to you," I say to her. I turn to Cato again and hiss in a voice laced with venom, "You better not hurt her. 'Cause I _swear,_ once I get out of this bad leg, I am going to _kill _you."

Cato holds his right hand up and salutes to me. "I swear. I'm a District Twelve Boy Scout Honoree," he says.

I eye him sardonically. "You were never a Boy Scout when you were at Twelve."

Cato winks and I roll my eyes. Rue giggles again. She seems to be doing a lot of that since Cato arrived. I bet he's doing the big brother act like he does to his sister, whose name I can't remember. I'll make sure to bring it up when Rue's sleeping. It's a topic he likes to be discreet of.

I stand up and brush the dirt off me. My leg hurts, but it's not that bad. And besides, we really need to keep moving in case the other Career members might have found us. Because who knows what they'll say-or do-when they find out that Cato's ditching them for another alliance? I can already feel Clove's anger within the forcefield of the arena surrounding all of us.

It looks like I was right about Cato doing the big brother act. He tosses Rue on his shoulders and carries her around. She squeals and shrieks, slapping the nearest object which happens to be his head. "Woah, little girl," he says with a grin, "Easy there!"

"You're the one who tossed me over your shoulders!" she shrieked.

"Hush, children," I say to both of them teasingly, knowing that I sound exactly like a boring teacher.

Cato laughs. "You sound like a mom."

And I giggle-which is something I never do, by the way.

Both Cato and Rue look at me with incredulous looks on their faces, never having heard me laugh or at least giggle. Rue erupts in laughter after recovering from her shock, but Cato only grins wider than he did before. "Why, Katniss," he says mockingly, "I could've sworn I've never heard you giggle before!"

I put my hands on my hips. "Why, Cato," I say back, "I could've sworn that you've changed since the last time I saw you!"

"Well, people change."

"But deep inside, you're still there."

"Unfortunately." He winks. I roll my eyes and smack his arm.

Rue clears her throat, and when we both look at her, she looks at us with a look that seems both questioning and knowing at the same time. It's ridiculous. "So, the whole star-crossed lovers from District Twelve was fake?" she asks us.

Cato and I exchange a look. We haven't discussed this-in private, nor in front of other tributes-and neither of us know what to say. But it seemed alright when I said, "I don't know what it was for Peeta, but I've never thought of him like that. He was my friend, and it probably will stay that way."

"So you knew Cato before?"

"Yup," Cato and I answered simultaneously.

"Do you love each other?"

I can see that Cato is as taken aback as I am by her question. And who wouldn't? Love is always complicated. It's even more complicated in my situation, being in the Games and in a _love triangl, _for crying out loud. So how did a twelve-year old figure it out so fast? Did we give away each other that fast already?

Cato grins at me. "Maybe," he says with a shrug.

I grin, too. "I agree with Cato." Cato looks at me, his blue eyes set calm. "Maybe."

Rue slugs Cato's arm and grins. Cato grabs her right ankle and pulls her down to the ground. She lands with a thump, then slugs his leg instead. He pretends to be injured and falls to the ground dramatically. I roll my eyes, knowing that it's just a show, but Rue seems to think otherwise. She crawls to the ground beside him, and pokes his fake-injured form.

That's when he lunges for her.

She's so taken by surprise that she actually yelps as Cato pounces on her. I muffled a chortle with my hand as Cato began tickling the smaller girl under him. She was laughing and gasping, surely having tons of fun. Even at a deadly situation.

And by deadly, I mean really deadly. These are the Games, after all.

"Stop," Rue gasps in between laughs. She giggles too hard. "Stop!" She's holding her stomach right now, clutching it like a life line.

"What's the magic word?" Cato teased, using the phrase that all our parents and teachers used to use during pre-school. It was hilarious enough to make me snort out laughing. I know Cato heard me, but he never took his focus off Rue. She was like his sister to him, like she was Prim to me.

"Please!" she gasped and started laughing loudly again. Cato rolled off her and lay on the forest grass. I'm the only one left standing, giggling at their exhausted and energy-drained faces.

I'm the only one left standing. I'm the only one who sees the knife heading towards me before it's too late.

So the knife hits my shoulder, instead of theirs.

Rue gasps and stands upright, and so does Cato. I vaguely feel myself fall to the ground, landing on my injured shoulder. I cradle the part with my right hand, blood seeping through my fingers immediately. I don't know who threw the knife, but I have an intuition that it's Clove.

Pain bubbles and throbs in my shoulder as I think incoherent things. Images flash through my eyes. Three figures in the woods emerge. A small figure-rodent?-rushes towards me and cradles my head? A big muscular form takes out his sword and blocks the smaller form and me from the attacker's point of view. Somehow, sometime, I'm thrown over a shoulder.

The last thing I remember before I black out-for the second time that day-is feeling the rough bark of a tree.

* * *

A/N: Short chapter, but the next one is interesting. I _promise._


	21. No Matter What

Guys I am super super super SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING! :(((((((( i sent this chapter actually to my beta, but she wasn't answering my messages and she hasn't returned this chapter yet so i just edited it myself and posted it. i'm really sorry for the long wait! :(((((((

next chapter's gonna be a long one though. that, i can assure you.

i'm thinking that i'll make the rebellion happen in the Quarter Quell cause you wanted that. what do you think?

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

I barely have time to register the pounding headache before I feel the pain in my shoulder, where the knife painfully hit.

I moan, obviously in pain, and try to sit upright. But a small, warm hand stops me and gently lays me down again.

"It's probably best if you don't do that," Rue says. Her big brown eyes are full of worry.

I groan and search my surroundings. We're still in the forest, laying on the ground out in the open. It's a dangerous position, but I have a feeling that we'd be lying low for a while, with my arm injured and all. Rue sits beside me, observing me, with a huge backpack of supplies that Cato carried.

_Cato. _

I tried to bolt upright again unsuccessfully. Rue senses that I'm going to try to stand up beforehand and slams me back to the ground, a tad bit too rough. She has surprising strength for a twelve-year old. Either that, or I'm really weak.

"Cato?" I demand from her. "Where is Cato?"

"He's out," she replied calmly.

"_What?" _I shriek. "What do you mean he's _out?_"

"He's looking for them."

I don't even try to stand up, knowing that my actions will be futile because Rue has the upper hand in my ragged stage. "_When did he leave?" _I ask her, with surprising urgency in my tone.

Rue's chance to reply is immediately taken when Cato appears into my line of view. He looks exhausted and grumpy, not to mention _angry. _His face doesn't even light up when he sees me awake. Instead, he slumps down next to Rue and picks a lock of hair that went out of my braid. "I'm fine," he grumpily stated.

I huffed. "Tell me something I _don't _know, maybe?"

Cato growled at me. "Can you get some berries or any of the non-poisonous shit there is here?" he asks Rue.

Rue immediately nods and scurries off into the other parts of the forest. I scowl. Cato frightened her again.

I turn to Cato. "You scared her."

He snorts. "Yeah, well, she's not the first."

We sit in silence for a while, until I clear my throat and say, "So, what happened?"

He avoids my gaze on purpose. "We were ambushed. Glimmer threw a knife at your shoulder-I'm guessing she was aiming for your heart, but she's just shitty at it-and I tossed you over my shoulder. She _may _have accidentally threw it at your shoulder, but she did a damn well job of wounding it." He grins and looks at me. "At least they know I already ditched them for you."

_Glimmer did it? Wasn't it Clove? _I only now observe the bandages around my left shoulder. The bandages cover the wound, but they don't cover the pain. It must really sound as bad as it looks. I shudder involuntarily. But inside, I secretly smile. At least the remaining Careers know that Cato has abandoned them.

For me.

Cato smiles. Then it vanishes, as quickly as it appeared. "I have good news, and two bad news."

I nodded, waiting for him to continue.

He clears his throat and says, "The good news is that it wasn't Clove who aimed for you. Instead, it was that useless _Glimmer _who can't even throw a knife properly. The bad news is that she was able to hit your shoulder." Cato grimaced.

His eyes harden. "And now, for the worst news."

I swear I do _not _like how that sounds.

He scratches the back of his neck. "They're all at the Cornucopia, taking shelter there and hogging the supplies. They got the District Three guy, too, but they're not harming him. They're _using _him. For what, I don't know."

I wait for Cato to elaborate, to tell me the bad news. He doesn't, so I say, "So?"

His placid eyes search mine, worriedly. He takes a deep breath. "They've got Baker Boy, too. But they're not keeping him unharmed, unlike the guy from Three."

And my world comes crashing down, like a tsunami raining down on houses on a bad, stormy day.

* * *

_It was a rainy day and we were low on food. My family and I were starving. It was only months after my father died, and my mom shut down. I hadn't had a catch in the wood for days, and the bad weather wasn't helping. No one was._

_I tried selling Prim's old baby clothes with no such luck. No one wanted to buy wet, old, hand-me-downs from a young Seam girl. But I tried anyway, which earned me nothing but wet and cold clothes that day._

_Sobbing, cold and tried, I literally collapsed by a small tree in the upper part of town. I only found out that I was in front of the bakery minutes later, when the baker's wife went out the house, yelling._

_She was screaming for me to get away-that she was sick of 'Seam Rats' digging through her trash bin, looking for scraps. She yelled for me to get away, but I was too cold and tired to comply. Voice hoarse, she went back to the bakery, slamming the door with a loud bang._

_Then the woman came out again, minutes later. She pushed her son-who held burnt bread in his hands-out of the house with her, and slapped his face. I felt pity for the boy, her son. No one deserved that kind of punishment._

_The wretched woman went back in the house, leaving the boy to throw the burnt, wasted loaves. I lick my lips hungrily and savagely-Oh what Prim would do if I brought those very loaves home! Never mind the burnt areas, those loaves would keep us going for at least a week if rationalized! But I shake the thought out of my head. It would be shameful for me and my family to ask._

_But the boy caught my eye. His blue eyes find my grey ones, and his eyes held shock. Mine held shame. The boy, I realized, was Peeta Mellark, a boy from my school my grade, my age. Even more shame rushed through me. Humiliation struck me painfully, emotionally. I refused to show that this recognition affected me._

_Peeta Mellark did what I thought he would do. He threw a loaf to the pigs, then a second. But he took a look at the door, as if he was expecting someone to just burst outside-probably his witch of a mother._

_Then Peeta Mellark did the unbelievable._

_He threw the third loaf to the ground, just before me and went back inside quickly, as if nothing happened._

_That night we had a wonderful meal. It was the first time my mother made supper for us after my father had died, and for that we were thankful. I never got to thank Peeta Mellark for what he did. And he never asked for any 'thank you's. But I only knew one thing._

_Peeta Mellark saved my life._

* * *

"We have to get him," I tell Cato, the urgency strong in my voice.

But even if the urgency in my tone is evident, Cato shakes his head. "No," he says. "We can't. I'm not risking it. I'm not risking _you._"

My temper flares and I feel a sudden rush of anger. "Cato, I _swear _if you don't at least let me try to save Peeta, _I will kill you._" My threat is laced with venom, and at this point, I don't just feel anger at Cato. I feel anger at _myself._ How could I even _forget _the Boy With The Bread? How could I even forget my district's male tribute?

How could I _forget _the person who saved my life?

I look at Cato sternly. "No, Cato. We are going. _I _am going."

Cato makes a frustrated sound. "No, Katniss," he says with a sigh. "What's the deal with you and Baker Boy _anyway? _Besides, you can't guarantee your safety-"

"Peeta saved my life, Cato," I tell him, cutting him off mid-sentence. "We -_I-_am going in there. Whether you like it or not."

I walk to the direction Rue was headed, but stop midway. I turn my head to the left, and see Cato in the corner of my eye, frowning.

Before I start walking away again, I say to him, "And you're not stopping me."


	22. Broken Arrow

You know what sucks? What sucks is that I haven't updated in nearly A MONTH. That sucks. I'm SO SO SORRY GUYS! My studies have been overloaded and I haven't been rly working on this fanfic or my Fallen one yet... SO SORRY! :(

but here's a new one just for you! btw, this chapter is named after The Script's song: Broken Arrow. :)

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games.**

* * *

_When you shoot across the sky like a broken arrow_

_It's so hard to keep yourself on the straight and narrow_

_When you shoot across the sky like a broken arrow_

_You fall of course_

_Yeah, when you hit the ground_

_It's hard to get to heaven when you're born hell-bound_

_-Broken Arrow by The Script_

"Katniss, are you sure about this?" Cato asks hesitantly, blocking my view of the Cornucopia.

Cato and I have left about an hour ago, leaving Rue behind with most of our food, a slingshot, and a knife. Before we left, she scurried up a tree hurriedly.

"Will you be okay?" she asked from above. Her wide brown eyes were brimming with worried tears.

I nodded. "We will. Don't worry, Rue, we'll come back."

She nodded, but the worry didn't vanish from her eyes. She belted herself in the tree safely, and watched us as Cato and I walked away to find Peeta.

Now, I think of Rue and what she would do if she were in my place. Surely, she would at least try and rescue or protect Thresh if he were in danger? It's what Prim would do for my father, if she had the chance to, right? "Yes, Cato," I say. "I'm sure."

Cato sighed, but stepped to the left. I gasped, my eyes watering immediately as my eyes caught the beautiful blonde boy who gave me bread.

Peeta was battered, bruised, and bloody. He was filled with dirt, and tied intricately to the ground with some rope. His eyes were shut; he might be unconscious, or sleeping. I prefer the latter.

I choked on a sob, because Peeta didn't deserve this. I didn't know him that well, true, but he must have a kind heart for giving me the bread. He never even asked for anything in return, not even a simple 'sorry'. A small, mournful sound escaped my throat, and I immediately clapped my hands over my mouth.

On the other side of their camp, the Careers-excluding Cato-were huddled around a campfire. They were joking around, not even bothering to be discreet about it. My hands fall limply to my sides and my hands clench. How could they do that? To a boy their own age? Are they even _human? _

Cato touches my shoulder lightly. "We're fighting in the morning," he says softly and carefully.

I whirl around, my eyes flashing with anger. "No! We're fighting now, while we're ready! Don't you get the urgency of this mission?" I yelled hysterically.

Cato claps his huge hand over my mouth. We watch the Careers as they whirl around, their eyes searching, eager, and curious. "Who was that?" the District Three boy asked, the fear noticeable in his voice.

Glimmer looked at her nails nonchalantly, like it was no big deal. "Probably one of the other tributes spying around, obviously jealous that they're not part of our group," she said, smirking.

I push Cato's hand off my mouth and feel my hands clench again. I strain to hear what they have to say next.

"And if it's the Fire Girl who's spying?" Clove asked defiantly. "What will you do? Cut Baker Boy up again, and make us watch our for her?"

My blood boils at the mention of Glimmer cutting and beating up Peeta because of _me. _How dare she? Oh, what I'd do to rip the hair off her scalp, and the nails off her fingers! My eyes blur with tears, but my hearing does not falter.

"No," Glimmer says, looking up from her nails. "If she's spying, then she'll know that _he's _here. And she won't leave him behind, I'm telling you. So when she comes to fetch him, we're killing both of them."

I shake my head and turn around to find Cato with his lips pursed in a very thin line. I say, "We attack tomorrow. Dawn. Now, let's camp and prepare."

* * *

"Why do you want him so much?"

I roll on my back and face Cato, who lies beside me. It was just after the anthem sounded and the fallen tributes' faces showed. The night was cold, and both of us were in our sleeping bags, the only source of warmth. A fire, of course, would alert the other Careers that we were here and we'd be busted immediately. So the only choice was to grit our teeth and deal with it.

I face the sky. "What do you mean?" I ask.

He faces me. "I mean, why do you want him so bad? No offense, but he's useless. He doesn't know how to use any of the weapons carefully or professionally, so why keep him? He might die, anyway."

I think about my answer for a while, the screws in my brain thinking of a smart and careful reply. "Well, for you Careers, he is useless, and he might die. But he saved me before." I steal a look at Cato. "And I owe it to him to at least try to keep him alive."

Cato nodded and processed what I just told him. We were quiet for a long time. "When we train," he finally said, "we aren't taught to owe. We weren't taught to show compassion, kindness, or love. It's just the main rule: kill or be killed. Some of us didn't want to at first, but eventually, we got the hang of it. And now we're... us. Like them." He gestured to his band of Career pack, and looks at the sky.

I touched Cato's arm softly. "Cato, you're not a monster," I said. "You're different."

He laughs softly, but shakes his head. "No, I'm just different with you. I'm less monster. That's why I changed when I met you again."

I smile in the dark, knowing that Cato can't see me. I climb out of my sleeping bag as quietly as possible, and stand up.

"What are you doing?" Cato asks questioningly.

I don't answer. Instead, I sink inside his sleeping bag and wrap an arm around his chest.

Cato, obviously surprised, doesn't react at first. But then I feel an arm around my waist and I smile once more, sinking into the ball of warmth that is Cato.

And for the first time ever since I went into this arena, I felt like I was perfectly fine, and at home.

* * *

A/N: Next chapter, is the battle. Get ready. ;)


	23. another author's note :(

Hai guys :)))

i know, i know, all of you are all probly disappointed that this is not another chapter. you probly think that i abandoned this fanfic. well, I DIDN'T! i've just been busy, kay, and it was my birthday yesterday. plus, i was studying cos this is my exams week! ergh. i'm so sorry for making errors! and i'm so sorry for keeping you waiting!

i'll try my best to update this Friday, after my exams. okay? okay.


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